


Balloon Boy

by natsumii



Series: Suburban Tales of Derry [2]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: 80's Vibes, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Bill is a Brave Idiot, Childhood Friends, Coming of Age, Dementia, F/M, Loss of Identity, M/M, Mystery, Other, Slow Burn, Tags May Change, Tragedy, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2018-12-31 03:19:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 40,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12123396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natsumii/pseuds/natsumii
Summary: Bill ventures deeper into the sewers to make sure It is dead but finds someone else instead.





	1. Chapter 1

1989

_You're the one who is afraid now._

And Bill was right. He could see it in those burning ugly eyes. 

"Fear." It whispered before it let go and plunged into the inky darkness below.

The morning of Georgie's first anniversary, Bill awoke to those same fiery eyes fading away along with his dreams.

"Bill, come on! Your Father and I are ready to go." His mother yelled from downstairs. 

"Coming!" He hollered back, finishing the last touches to his secret gift and sliding said gift into his coat pocket where it won't be seen. He didn't want his parents to know of it. 

It was bitter irony that today was pouring rain. Bill gazed out the car window, watching the mini-river made out of rainwater rush along the sidewalk curb and realized with a sharp pang that that must have been the reason why Georgie died; the S.S Georgie was too fast for him. Bill  _made_ it too fast for him. 

Tears sprung to his eyes.

They passed  _the_ storm drain. Bill imagined her sailing right down it and into It's hands. 

His body went numb at the thought of how much pain and fear Georgie must have felt right before his death.  _His arm was bitten off._

Oh! How Bill would have given anything if it meant he could have saved his little brother. And if he couldn't have saved him, then at least make it so Georgie would have died peacefully without pain and without fear.

How can someone so innocent and young have something so horrible befallen them? How could this have happened to his sweet little brother? _Why_ did it have to happen to  _him_.

_Why him? Why his Georgie?_

Bill can't count the times he wished it was he himself who the clown snatched. But then, he thinks, Georgie may have been next too, anyways. Somewhere, deep in his mind, he wishes it was someone else. Another kid instead of his Georgie but he banishes that thought, ashamed.

The grass makes squelchy noises as they walk through the graveyard. By then the rain has lighten up some, but not enough to discard their black umbrellas. They head towards one little gravestone as if they were ships in sea, the gravestone their lighthouse lighting the way through the storm. 

They stand in somber silence. His mother breaks down not too long after. He hates seeing his mother cry. She was always so calm and composed, the perfect picture of serenity when he watches her play the piano. Seeing her cry now, it broke that image. It broke her.

His father tried to hide his sadness but Bill would sometimes catch him standing inside Georgie's room, staring at nothing. 

He waits for his parents to leave before bringing out the gift. He crouched before the headstone, the words engraved read:

 

**George Elmer Denbrough**

_1983-1988_

_Loving Son and Brother_

_You were the joy in our lives. May you be joyful forever._

 

"Hi, Georgie," Bill whispers hoarsely, blinking back tears. "I brought you something."

He fingers the gift, an exact replica of the  _S.S Georgie._

"I know it's probably not what you want to see right now... but I- I didn't know what to do." He bows his head, hot tears sliding down his cheeks. "I miss you, Georgie. I-I'm so s-s-sso-" 

A ragged gasp escapes him. His bottom lip trembles violently. Bill thinks he's going  _to die_.

"G-Ge-Ge- _Georgie... Georgie..._ " He sobs, the paper boat crumpling in his grip. "I-I did it, Georgie. It-It's  _never_ going to hu-hurt you again. It's  _never_ going to-to-to hurt anyone else  _ever_ again. I... I pra-promise Georgie. I promise..." 

The stone was cold and wet to the touch.

He cries harder than he's ever cried in his life. Reality returns to him when his dad comes back for him and finds his son curled up next to the gravestone drenched to the bone, his umbrella laying precariously by his side forgotten.

 

 

 

"Hiya, Bill!" Richie announces loudly when he and the rest of the Losers' Club minus Beverly Marsh enter Bill's room unexpectedly. 

Bill sits up in bed, surprise written all over his face. "W-what are you guys doing here?" 

He groans when Richie flops on top of him ungracefully. "C'mon, you really think we're going to let our best friend be all alone on today of all days?"  The glass wearing kid said as he was pushed off by Bill. 

"Yeah Bill. We're here for you." Eddie added, sitting at the edge of the bed.

"Plus we knew you were going to be crying like a baby." Richie grinned and did a poor imitation of a crying baby.

Eddie smacked his arm. "Shut up, Richie."

"Ha ha, ow! Ow. Okay, okay sorry." His voice changed into a different, deeper accent. "And look! Mr. Hanlon has brought us kiddies the devil's juice. Give it up everybody for Mr. Hanlon! Good sir if you would be so kind to show the audience what you've brought for us today."

Mike shook his head laughing as he set down his backpack and pulled out a bottle of alcohol. "I got it from my grandpa's cabinet. He won't notice, I think."

Bill's eyes widened at the sight of the bottle. In a flash, he shot out of bed to lock the door. Once the danger of his parents walking in on them passed, Bill turned around and faced the group. "What the hell! You guys can't bu-bring that in here. My parents could have seen us!"

"But did they?" Richie asked mockingly.

Eddie began wringing his hands. "Yeah, I dunno guys. Maybe this isn't such a good idea after all. I mean, what if we get caught? My mom will ground me for like,  _forever_." 

"Don't be such a pansy, Eds"

"Ha, ha. Real funny Richie. How about you shut the fuck up?" 

"You guys! Stop it." Stan spoke out. "We're here for Bill." The young Jewish boy took out a collection of paper cups, ripping the plastic and pulled out one cup and poured the contents of the bottle inside. He held it out for Bill to take. 

He stared at it for a moment, hesitates for a brief second, and then accepts the cup. 

Sooner than later, all the boys in the room held one in their hand. They all look to Bill, waiting for him to say something. He takes a deep breath and begins. "My little brother Georgie died today. He didn't deserve it. None of the kids in Derry deserved what happened to them." He looked at his friend's grim faces. "It would have happened to us too.  _It_ could have killed us and we wouldn't be standing here today. We could've been like those kids, just missing posters that'll be buried and forgotten."

His voice grew louder and he stood a little bit straighter. "But that didn't happen to us. We stood strong. Together. And we defeated It and if It isn't dead, then we will defeat it again so there won't be another Georgie and no kid in Derry will ever go missing ever again." He paused, gulping down tears and raised his cup. "To Georgie."

"To Georgie!" Everyone echoed. 

Bill swung the cup back and downed it's content. His face twisted in disgust as the bitter burning liquid ran down his throat. 

"Oh fuck," Richie muttered, sticking out his tongue. "What the fuck is this? Eddie's mom's bathwater?" 

"O.K that is it! You're going down, Richie!" Eddie declared and proceeded to tackle the taller boy onto the floor where they rolled around in a play fight. Bill and the others laughed. While everyone was making bets on who was going to win, Bill hanged back from the group. He let his smile drop. 

The clown was in his thoughts again.

 

 

The rain came back with a vengeance. The sound of it pelting against his windowpane the only noise in the room. He was startled when the telephone began ringing. Without thinking, he answered it. 

"Hello?"

"Bill?"

Bill's breath hitched. "B-B-Bev? Is- Is that you?"

He heard her sweet, melodious giggle. "Yes, it's me. You haven't forgotten about me so soon, have you?"

"N-no! Of course not!" He sat up, breathing slowly to control the anxiety he felt. "How- How did you get my number?"

"Ben gave it to me from his last letter. He also told me that today was Georgie's anniversary. I... I didn't know your brother but he seemed like a nice kid. I'm sorry, Bill."

Somehow, after all the crying he's done today, Bill still had a few more tears left in him. "He was. Thank you." He held the phone away and cleared his throat. "So uh, how is- how is Portland?" 

"Good. My Aunt's nice aaand I have a bigger room now... but it's nothing compared to the Losers' Club. I miss you guys." 

"I- W-we miss you too, Beverly." He was lucky that she can't see him over the phone or else she would have seen how red his face was. "It's not the same without you."

He could hear the smile in her voice. "I wish I can see you guys sooner. I promise I'll come visit someday. Maybe we can all swim at the quarry again."

A genuine smile broke out on his face. "Ye-yeah! That would be great."

"Great. I'll see you later then."

"Yeah. Yeah..." He bit his lip. "W-wait!"

"Yeah, Bill?"

His stomach dropped. "Can I... Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

He paused, trying to collect his thoughts. Maybe he shouldn't say anything at all...

"Bill?" 

Now or never.

"Do you think It's dead, Bev?" He immediately regretted the words coming out of his mouth. He shouldn't have said anything. "D-do you think... we actually killed it?"

There was a long, heavy silence that didn't help at all with his increasing anxiety. He was about to say something when Beverly spoke again.

"I don't know, Bill. I think so. I hope so. I really, really hope so. Why? Is something wrong?" She asked, alarmed.

"No! No, nothing's wrong." He heard her breath a huge sigh of relief. "It's just... I keep thinking, w-what if it's not dead. What if it's still alive down there and It's waiting like it always does."

"I don't know Bill. I don't think that's true."

"B-but you said it yourself! You d-don't know if It's dead or not."

"Yeah, I did say that but I don't want to be right. I-.. I think it's dead. And if it isn't, we'll all come back again, like we promised." 

Bill frowned. "I don't think we sh-should wait until It is back. We should strike at it now, when it's at it's weakest."

"No, Bill that's not a good idea. We don't know what's deeper in those sewers. We shouldn't go looking for trouble when there is none." 

"But we did it before! We can do it again." 

"Bill..." She sighed over the phone. "Believe me, a part of me wants to, too. But whenever I look back on that summer, it just seems like some kind of bad dream. Please... I want it to stay that way."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Bev... I can't forget what happened. Georgie wasn't some bad dream." 

"I'm so sorry, Bill." He heard her sniffle. "I didn't mean-"

"No, i-it's o.k. I understand."

There was another pause. "Thanks, Bill." 

"It's o.k Bev. Goodbye."

"Bill."

"Yes?"

"Don't do anything stupid."

"I won't."

"You promise?"

Bill felt his heart skip a beat. He steeled himself and answered carefully so he won't stutter. "I promise." 

"Good. Bye Bill."

"Goodbye, Beverly." 

He waited until she hung up the phone first before hanging up himself. He stared at it, thinking of the promise he just made and feeling guilty that he was going to break said promise. 

_I'm sorry Bev, but I have to know._

He laid back on his side again and hugged Georgie's raincoat tighter.

He had to know.


	2. Chapter 2

1989

The house on 29 Neibolt Street hadn't changed one bit, as if it were permanently stuck in time, never aging nor changing.

Bill doesn't hesitate to enter. He used to be fearful of the house but he was done being scared and to be honest, once you've faced a demonic clown with it's sole intent was to eat your flesh, there is nothing left in the world that can compete with that. He's not even scared of going to the dentist anymore.

He heads directly to the cellar of the run down house. Fortunately for him, the rope the Loser's Club had used previously was still there. He takes a hold of it and peers down the deep well, Henry Bowers' screams echoing in his head. The police discovered Oscar Bowers' dead body in his reclining chair when the man didn't come in for work. Evidence states that the killer remains unknown but rumors travel around the town of Derry faster than he can ride his bike,  _Silver_. 

It looked bad for Henry to disappear around the same time his dad was murdered. People say the young juvenile did the deed and ran away to avoid going to jail. A part of Bill wishes that were true. Even though Henry bulled them for the most of their young childhood lives, he didn't deserve to die. He along with everyone else in Derry was tormented by the clown. 

A chill ran down Bill's spine. Henry's body must still be down there, decomposing, his empty eyes staring up at Bill.

Or worse.

_His body was taken by... It. One last snack._

Either way, that was one mystery Bill didn't want to uncover.

"No turning back." He muttered under his breath and climbed down the rope. Once he clambered safely inside the short tunnel entrance did he let out a breath of air he didn't realize he was holding. Licking his lips, Bill turned on the flashlight and ventured into the sewers. 

He's been here once already yet back then everything went by in such a blur that being here now, the tunnels were unfamiliar to him. It was a good thing he brought the map. When he reached a room, everything clicked back into place. This was the place they found Stan being... leeched on by that woman- no, It. 

_Georgie_

Bill turned around and let his memories guide the way. The door to It's lair was wide open, as if the sewer was expecting his arrival. 

"Bev..." He flashed the light onto an empty spot in the air. He proceeded around the towering pile of collection from the lost children, taking quick, furtive glances at the small bodies strewn around the floor. So, so many bodies...

It was when he reached the hole in the ground did he start to have second thoughts. 

_Maybe he should have brought someone with him. It was like he said: Together they were strong, but alone..._

No. No if Bill had told one of the member from the Loser's Club he was planning on going back into the sewers to look for a psycho killer clown, they would have stopped him. They were just like Bev. They wanted to put this whole thing behind them. _Move on_. 

They don't understand. _Bill can't move on_. He needed to know.

And well, if It _was_ alive, then Bill was sure it would be sleeping. He was going to be safe. Hopefully. Just in case, he brought along his steel bat. 

_Here we go._

He pulled out a long climbing rope he bought from the sports store.

_"Here." He slammed his allowance money he collected over weeks on the glass counter. "G-give me your longest rope. The longest one you have."_

_The teenager stared at him and blew until his bubblegum popped. "How long do you want it?"_

_Bill pondered that question for a moment and stepped back. "This long." He clarified, spreading his arms out as wide as he can._

_"Right." The teen mumbled and went to fetch it. "Here you go," He tossed the merchandise unceremoniously onto the counter._

_Bill inspected the rope, a frown on his face. "How long is this?"_

_"As long as Mount Everest."_

_"How long is that?"_

_"Long." The teen deadpanned._

_"Oh, r-right. Thank you," Bill said as he collected his change and left the store._  

Peering down the hole, Bill hoped he got his money's worth. He scanned the large catacomb and spotted something that could support his weight. It was a lone cement frame that appeared sturdy enough not to break. He uncurled the rope and wrapped it around the pole, using the knowledge he learned during his boy scouts' years to aid him in tying a secure knot. Who knew those boring activities would actually come in handy someday.

He tested the knot to make sure it was secure. Once, twice, and a third time; tugging with all his might. 

After it passed his standards, he flung the rope down the hole. Bill grabbed it and perched at the very edge.

_"Don't do anything stupid."_

Sorry Bev.

Here goes nothing.

 

Surprisingly, the hole wasn't that deep. Heck, the ends of the rope were bundled in a pile on the ground. Bill grumbled about how much he paid for the thing. He thought the hole was going to be deeper. Turns out, it looked deep because no light reached it. In fact, there was no light down here at all. 

This new section of the sewer was pitch black so much so that when he raised his hands in front of his face, he couldn't see them.

His heart fluttered but he steeled his nerves and turned on the flashlight. The circular space he was in looked no different than the rest of the sewers. To his left, right and front there were three tunnels that spanned off into the unknown. 

Bill decided to go forward. Before he left, he took out a glow stick and cracked it on and left it by the rope. That way, if anything happened to his flashlight he would have those things to help him find his way back.

Eddie would be proud.

At each bend Bill would drop a glow stick. He did so sparsely though. His supply was limited.

A small gasp escaped him when the water took a deep dive and he found himself above knee length in gray water.

"Shit," Bill muttered. He cracked a glow stick on and carefully placed it on the surface, hoping it would stay afloat. To his disappointment, it sank, only to leave a faint glow in the murky depth. Not what he hoped for but it would have to make do for now. 

 _Onward men! To victory!_ He imagined Richie saying. He wished the boy was here with him. He could use his friend's wise cracking jokes right about now.

Undeterred, he trudged through the tunnel.

_Where was It? How big was this place?_

He used to study the map over and over and he was sure the old sewers shouldn't be this big. After a few minutes of exploring his confidence began wavering. He was down to his last four glow sticks and he was still no closer to finding where It resided.

Maybe Bev was right. Maybe It was dead and he was down here for no reason. There was a likelier chance he would die from getting lost in the sewers rather than finding It.

_But if It was dead, then where was the body?_

The tunnel abruptly ended and expanded out into a large room. There were brick arches on both sides and somewhere echoed the  _drip drip_  of water. From where he stood, the light from his flashlight hit across the brick wall before him.

He squinted and saw... something on the wall. Slowly, Bill crossed the room, lifting his arms into the air as the water reached waist level. Bill tensed when realized there was something written on the wall. In blood.

The handwriting was scrawled onto the wall, as if it were done by a child learning how to write for the first time. Bill read it out loud.

"He thrusts his fists against the posts... and still insists he sees the ghosts."

A cold dread washed over him.

It was then his flashlight began to flicker.

"No, no, no." He slaps and shakes the torch, and for a second he was drenched in darkness. The light returned and shone upon a towering face staring down at him. With a shout, Bill fell back into the water, swallowing a mouthful of gray water. He flails his arms blindly, scrambling to find any purchase for his footing. Someone-  _something_ grabs his shirt and pulls him up and out of the water. 

Bill is sputtering water and taking deep frantic breaths. He wipes at his face messily and blinks away the blurriness in his vision. Face to face staring back at him was a pale man with large piercing eyes. Bill froze in shock, paralyzed under that penetrating stare. 

The man sneered and ran a thumb across the boy's cheek.

A pinch of pain sent a jolt of awareness through Bill's body, moving him to action. "No!" He shouted, and kicked the man right in the family jewels. Bill fell back into the water yet this time he twisted around and swam away back to the tunnel he came through. 

He ran as fast as he could, spotting the green glows like a sniper. He didn't have time to stop. Stopping was not an option! 

_Fuck! Who the fuck was that?_

He expected a killer clown! Not some random creepy man. What did he want?  _Why_ was he down here? Who in the world other than the clown would be _down here_?

Fear made Bill run faster. He wasn't scared of the clown but this? A man deep in the sewers (and not just any sewers. _It's_ sewers), who didn't greet Bill like a normal person and stared at him with that much intensity, now that frightened the boy beyond imagination.

_Was he chasing him?_

Bill didn't dare look back to check. He was too scared to. His heart leapt into his throat at the thought of what the man was going to do to him if he catches him. The boy spotted the next glow stick and ran to it like his life depended on it, which it probably did in this case. At the last minute, to his horror, Bill realizes the glow stick was hovering in the air- no- the man was holding it up, his face barely visible underneath its glow. The man was scrutinizing it and flashed his eyes at Bill when the boy came to a dead stop.

No, no, no! How was that possible? The man couldn't have beaten him here! The next glow stick was waiting for him just beyond the man. No way was Bill going to try to get past him. He filtered through his options and decided without thought to risk it and run down a different tunnel.

Without his flashlight- he must have dropped it in the water back there- Bill couldn't see a thing. He just ran, holding the vague direction of where the next glow stick might be. He grunted in pain when he rushed head first into a wall. Groping around with his hands, Bill dashed to the right, keeping the tips of his fingers connected to the walls. He didn't want to lose touch with it. He was afraid if he did he would be stuck in eternal dark empty space. Feeling the walls physically there reassured him that he wasn't lost in some other horrifying dimension.

Through the loud splashing of his footsteps, he thought he heard splashing, not his own, coming from behind him. 

He could throw up right then and there. 

He could almost cry when he caught sight of a faint green glow.

What happened after went by in a blur. When Bill spotted the rope he flew at it and began climbing immediately. In the back of his mind, he was surprised yet grateful the rope was still there. He was half-expecting it to be gone like he was in some B-Horror movie.

Back atop in the catacomb, Bill took out his baseball bat and raised it in a striking pitcher pose. He watched, heart beating fast, the rope move as something climbed up it. The  _second_ the man's head popped into view, Bill swung with all his might. A deep, resonating ping erupted as the bat connected with the man's head. The stranger grunted quietly and fell back down the hole. 

 _Home run,_ Bill thought. That should buy him some time. 

Finding his way back was the easiest part of this whole trip. At the top of the well, he swung off and dashed up the stairs. He zeroed in on the door and yanked at the doorknob.

The door didn't budge an inch. He jerked it a few more times before realizing the door was locked... by a shiny gold switch? 

"What?..." He breathed in disbelief as he finally noticed that the entrance, once mangy and decrepit, was a solid healthy wooden door.

"What are you doing in my house?" A voice spoke from behind him. Bill whipped around to face a boy standing by the stairs.

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, knowing he must look like a fish out of water. "Y-yo-your house?"

The young boy peered at him strangely. "Yes, my house. You are in it. Why?" 

"I-I..." Whatever Bill was going to say died in his throat when he took in his surroundings. If stranger things hadn't happened to him before, he wouldn't believe what he saw now. He still doesn't fully believe what he was seeing. This couldn't be the same house on 29 Neibolt Street. It just couldn't.

The flooring was a smooth polished wooden oak, a simple carpet resided in the middle, and the stairs were fully remodeled- or, or refurbished? There was also a chandelier that hung from the ceiling and comfortable looking furniture placed around the living room. 

And then there was the boy. 

He appeared no older than Bill himself. The mysterious boy had combed back brown hair and wore a flannel button up tucked into jeans with a pair of red converse. Overall, he looked like something straight out of a 50's rerun. 

The boy approached him and reached out with one hand to brush his cheek. When he drew back his hand, his fingers were stained red. Alarmed, Bill touched his cheek and felt something wet. He was bleeding. 

_The man... he must have cut him. With his nail?_

The boy stared at his red fingertips. His eyes flickered to Bill. "You should go."

Bill opened his mouth to reply but then he caught sight of those eyes and froze.

They were the same as the man's down in the sewer, except now, he could see they were a clear blue. 

_Could this be the man's son?_

"You should leave, Billy." The boy said darkly. The front door behind them opened slowly on its own. A sudden, irrational strike of fear hit Bill, prompting him to tear his eyes away from those blue ones. In a daze, he stumbled outside onto the front porch. The loud slam of the door banging closed woke him from his trance. 

Bill spun around. The door was rotten and scorched. He swung it open and marched inside only to be greeted by the familiar decaying wooden floors and cobwebs.

Everything was back to normal.

The mysterious boy was gone.

When Bill returned home, his mom was playing a melancholy tune on the piano. He wanted to say something to her, maybe a quick hello or give her a kiss on the cheek but she ignored his presence, and he suddenly felt out of place in his own home.

Bill collapsed onto his bed, exhausted. He went over and then went over again the events of what happened at the house on 29 Neibolt Street in his mind. Nothing made sense.

Where was It? Who was that man? Who was the boy? How did the house look so normal and how did it change back? 

So many questions and no answers. Well, at least one thing was for sure. Something strange was going on in Derry again, and Bill didn't know if it was connected to the clown or if this could be something else new entirely.

He looked towards the window and spotted something that wasn't there on his desk before. He got up and went over to it. 

Rolled up neatly on his desk was the rope.

 

 

"Hey Bill, me and Eddie are going to see Batman. Stan can't make it cos he got stupid prayer practice to do and Mike's working at the farm and Ben didn't pick up the phone. What a bunch of losers, right?"

"Sorry Richie, I got uh.. got a lot of st-stuff to do."

"What the fuck, what are you doing? Beating your meat? Tickling your pickle? Slamming that jam?"

"Richie!" Bill heard Eddie's voice exclaim through the phone.

"Fine, fine, but it's your loss Bill."

"I think I can handle that."

"Your loss!" Richie said one more time before the line went dead. Bill rolled his eyes and hung up the phone. He did a once over, checking if he had his things and headed to the door. He twisted the doorknob and paused.

He glanced at his mother who was sitting by the window, staring out at nothing.

"I'm heading out, Mom. I'll be back later."

He waited but there came no response. No smile. No indication she heard his voice or registered his presence. She was like a statue, cold and untouchable. 

Bill felt a lump in his throat. He left his house fighting back tears. The cool wind air rushing against his face helped to numb his eyes as he pedaled all the way into town.

The old lady librarian greeted him from behind her desk when he entered the Derry Public Library. The ancient building smelled musty and old and it was so quiet that a casual cough could be heard just about anywhere. Bill hasn't set foot in here since... well since he was very little. Other than school, he didn't have any good reason to go to the library. Why would he when he could spend his time doing better things like building a dam at the Barrens.

"Excuse me, miss. Do you know where I can look up the history of houses in Derry?"

The librarian fixed her glasses and squinted at him. "Oh!" She gasped in delight. "William Denbrough. Why, I haven't seen you since you and Georgie helped me set up those Christmas decorations all those years ago."

Bill felt a shock zip down his body at the mention of his brother's name. He's accepted the fact Georgie was dead.  _Gone._ It didn't mean it made it any easier when the little boy was brought up. Hearing his name felt like tearing a scab open again and again. Healing little by little but the pain was still fresh every time.

"Oh, dear. I'm terribly sorry about what happened to your little brother. Georgie was such a sweet little boy. How is your Mother doing? Is she alright?"

"Sh-she's fine, ma'am. C-can I see those books now?"

"Oh alright dearie. Follow me."

They headed towards the back of the library, passing rows and rows of endless bookcases. They turned a corner and the old lady went and pulled out an old, large book. 

"Here you go," She said as she handed it to him. "Is there anything else you need?"

"No ma'am. Thank you."

She smiled and patted his head. "Alright. Let your Mother know I said hello and if she ever needs someone to talk to I'm here for her."

Bill gripped the book tighter." I will, ma'am." He was relieved when the librarian left him to his own devices. Book in hand, he turned around the corner to head to one of the desks to read only to almost bump into Ben Hanscom.

They both jumped back in surprise. Bill's eyes automatically landing on the book Ben was carrying.

**The Visionary Company**

_A Reading Of English Romantic Poetry_

He frowned, and then noticed Ben was looking at his book. They both hid their own respective books behind their backs at the same time.

"Bill!" The chubbier boy exclaimed.

"Ben." Bill replied.

"What are you doing here?" 

"Reading. What are  _you_ doing here?

"What do you mean? I'm always here."

They both stood there awkwardly, shuffling their feet. Ben cleared his throat. "Well... I'm going to.. go." He scurried past Bill.

Bill bit his lip. Maybe his little historian friend can help him. 

"Ben, wait!"

 

He set the book down with a loud bang that echoed throughout the library. The boys flinched and glanced at the librarian who shushed them with a finger, shaking her head.

"Sorry," Ben whispered as they sat down. "O.k, let's see. You're looking for the history of the house on 29 Neibolt Street..." He opened the book, releasing a waft of old book smell that overpowered the senses. The paper made a crinkling sound as his friend shifted through its pages. "You know Bill, I tried looking it up too but there wasn't much to find." He turned over a page and smoothed it out. "The book only has a picture of what the house looked like before it got bad."

Ben tapped one finger on the black and white image of a simple, neat house. The fence surrounding the property was straight and not bent and broken, and the lawn was clean-cut grass. Even the tree was healthy with a full hair of bushy leaves. It was weird. This house resembled so much the run-down one in present times except it was more of a visually appealing cousin instead of being one in the same.

Bill read the little text underneath the picture.

_House on 29 Neibolt Street. Pic. 1952_

"The book says something about the house being haunted. It had a lot of owners in the past who complained how the doors would slam on their own, objects being moved around, and bloody water. The town's property manager wrote that off as something to do with a faulty plumbing system." Ben snickered. "The town thought it was ghosts."

"Nope. Just a clown..." Bill mumbled, reading the text. "Hey, it says the last people to live there di-disappeared."

"Yeah. Gone without a trace."

The two boys glanced at each other knowingly. 

He flipped over to the next page and flipped back. "Is that it?"

"Like I said Bill. The book doesn't have much information about the house." 

Bill frowned in disappointment. "That can't be all. There has to be more."

"I tried, too." Ben turned towards Bill. "Why are you so interested in the house anyways? It is dead."

 _We don't know that,_ Bill thought bitterly. "Why were you reading a book about love poetry?" He countered with a question.

Ben's face turned red as a tomato. "Bev- Bev likes poetry." He stammered.

Bill blinked, "Oh, she does? I didn't know that."

"Yeah, she likes a lot of things. She tells me about it all the time."

Bill paused and licked his lips awkwardly. It seems Ben knew a lot more about Beverly than he did. He felt a twinge of jealousy but he pushed that away. "Th-thank's Ben and thanks for, you know, telling Bev about my brother's anniversary."

Ben gave a warm smile. "Don't mention it."

"See you around." Bill said and left to return the book at the front desk before exiting the library. 

 _Well that was a bust,_ he thought. He didn't find anything of importance. Or... maybe he did.

Ghosts. The boy and the man. The idea was far-fetched but what the hell.

Stranger things have happened before. 

 

 

_"Hi! You've reached Zack. Sharon. Bill. Georgie! We can't come to the phone right now so leave a message and we'll get back to you whenever!"_

_BEEP_

"Hey dude, where have you been? Ben's been saying you're hanging out at the library all the time now. Bill, don't be a Ben Hanscom. We don't need another nerd in the group! Anyways, we're all going costume shopping for Halloween. We're gonna try to be a group this year. Maybe Ghostbusters or something. Call back asap or else you're gonna end up as the marshmallow man!"

_BEEP_

"Hello, Mr and Mrs. Denbrough this is Mrs. Douglas, Bill's English teacher. I think you should know your son is an exceptionally talented writer but I must voice my concerns about the paper he submitted for his end of summer reflection. He wrote that a clown had been terrorizing the town and that it was behind all the missing children. Now it wasn't only Bill who wrote about this clown. Some of the other boys in class did too and I assure you I am calling their parents as well. I am concerned for your son though. He wrote that the clown, well, that the clown was responsible for his little brother, George going missing too. I understand this is beyond my authority, but I think you should talk to your son. Some kids deal with the deaths of loved ones differently."

_BEEP_

"Hi Bill, this is Beverly. I wanted to let you know that I think I might be able to come to Derry over winter break! Ben's mom offered me a place to stay so you don't have to worry about where I'm going to sleep. Alright, um, that's all I wanted to say. See you later, alligator."

 

 

The week after his mini-expedition down into the sewers Bill spent riding his bike everyday past the house on 29 Neibolt Street. For the first few times he would do a ride-by. He didn't stop or anything, just cruised by checking out the house, looking for anything weird and out of the ordinary- er _more_ weird and out of the ordinary.

One time he thought he saw a face staring at him from one of the windows. Bill was so startled he fell off his bike. He hissed and nursed his scrapped elbow. When he looked back at where he swore he saw the face, there was nothing there.

He was getting ready to leave for his daily check-up when his dad entered his room.

"Sit down, Son." His dad said. Bewildered, Bill complied and sat at the edge of his bed while his dad sat on his desk chair backwards.

 _What was going on?_ Bill had to admit it was pretty jarring. This was the first time in a long time his dad was the first one to initiate a conversation. Heck he even came to his room. When was the last time that ever happened?

His dad rubbed his forehead and sighed. "Your English teacher called-"

"If this is about the f-firecrackers I swear Dad it wasn't my fault. It was all Richie's idea."

"No, I'm not talking about the.. firecrackers? What happened with the firecrackers?"

Bill sucked in air. "N-nothing."

His dad gave him a look but dropped it. "No, your teacher called about what you wrote in your summer reflection paper."

"Dad, that was just a joke between friends."

"Really?" His father said, his voice raising just a fraction or so. "Because I don't think it's just a joke when my son writes that his little brother was taken by some man in a clown suit."

Bill's stomach did a flip. "Da-"

"Do you realize what you've done to your Mother when she heard of what you wrote? That is  _not_ o.k, Bill. This is unacceptable."

"Dad, I-I'm s-so-" He shut his mouth and cleared his throat. "I'm s..sorry. I didn't mean to hurt Mom."

His dad shook his head, letting out a heavy sigh. "What is going on, Bill? Is this about Georgie? I thought we've been over this. He's gone, Bill."

"I kn-know he's gone!" Bill yelled, springing to his feet. 

"Then what is it? Tell me!" 

Bill opened and closed his mouth, his face growing hot, tears forming in his eyes. "Y-y-you d-d-don't understand!" In a flash, he swung his backpack over his shoulder and ran out of the room, taking the stairs two at a time, ignoring his father's calls. He reached the door and swung it open. He paused though, and turned towards his mother's prone form by the window.

"L-l-l-look at me!" He screamed.

His mom jumped and looked at him. "Bill?" She whispered, getting up at the sight of her son's crying face. She called his name in alarm when he sprinted out the door. He was on his bike and pedaling away in record time, refusing to look at his mother when she came running out of the house after him.

The houses and the trees blurred together as he biked towards the only place he could think of. 

He stormed into the house on 29 Neibolt Street. Baseball bat in hand, he let out screams of rage as he began smashing the walls and the furniture; anything that was directly in his line of sight became a target.

Every  _smash, crunch,_ and  _bang_ was satisfying to the ears. 

Georgie, in his little yellow raincoat, flashed through his mind. 

_It was all his fault. Bill shouldn't have let Georgie play outside that day. He should've known better; he was the older brother. He was supposed to protect him!_

The clown, It, popped into his head next. A new wave of anger coursed through his veins.

_That stupid clown! Why did it have to choose Georgie? Why couldn't It have crawled back to wherever it came from and starved. He hoped the clown was dead and if it wasn't then he hoped it was starving to death. Serves It right for all the pain and grief its caused to this entire town._

Bill swung his bat around like a mad man or like someone possessed. 

_He hates that clown! He hates it, he hates it, he hates it!_

It felt like this explosive anger he felt inside of him would never recede, but fade away it did. In the aftermath of his destruction, Bill was left shaking and emotionally and physically exhausted. He plopped onto his butt and brought his knees to his chest and cried his lungs out. 

He didn't know how long he sat there, feeling angry at the world and its injustices to the people he loved.

His sobs turned to hiccups and hiccups into sniffles until there were no more tears left in him. Just a strange... hollow emptiness.

"Why are you destroying my house?"

Bill gasped and jumped to his feet. It was the mysterious boy! Frantic, he dropped his bat and shuffled inside his backpack until he managed to grab a baseball. Without a second thought, he threw it at the boy.

The ball bounced off his chest and they both stared at it as it rolled away.

_So... not a ghost then._

The boy flashed his eyes at Bill dangerously. "Why were you destroying my house?"

"I wasn't de-destroying your house!" Bill waved his arm around the room as if it emphasize his point, but when he did he saw that he was no longer in the run-down version but in the newer, fixed version of the house. His bottom jaw hit the floor. How was this possible? He was just here or there, or wherever the hell he was. The signs of his destruction remained though. "Oh s-shit... I am so sorry. I didn't- I didn't mean to. I th-thought I was..." He trailed off as he watched the boy walk over to the baseball and scoop it up. He tossed it up and down a few time before throwing it back at Bill who thankfully caught it.

"Leave." The boy demanded and turned on his heels.

"W-wait! Hold up." Bill jogged after him and caught him at the bottom of the stairs. He went to rest his hand on the left hand volute only to draw it back in a flash when his hand touched the boy's. "S-sorry," He mumbled, his cheeks turning a dusty pink. He breathed and recollected himself. "How d-did you know my name. You called me Billy. My name is Bill." 

The boy was staring at his hand, then at Bill's hand, and then he cocked his head. "Lucky guess, I guess." 

The mysterious boy started up the stairs again but Bill wasn't going to let him go that easily. He had burning questions that needed to be quenched. "W-who are you?" He persisted. "What's your name?"

Instead of answering, the boy sent him an annoyed look which turned into one of intrigue. He stepped down, his face coming uncomfortably close to Bill's own. At this distance, he was entranced by how _blue_ those eyes were. So blue and clear you can dive right on into it like it were an ocean. 

"How about this." He said. "Let's play a game. Hide and seek. You find me and I'll tell you my name. If you fail to find me, then you leave my house and never return. Deal?"

He stuck out his hand. Bill bit his lip and took it, giving it a good shake. "Deal."

For the first time since they've met, the mysterious boy smiled, the tips of his lips curling up slightly. "Cover your eyes, then." He took Bill's hands and brought them over his eyes. "And count to seven."

"Why not ten?"

"Ten is boring. Come on, start counting."

"One... t-two... three... " He strained his ears to hear anything: footsteps, the creaking of the floorboards, a door opening and closing. Yet all he heard was complete silence. "...six... seven! Ready or not, here I come." 

He uncovered his eyes and scanned the room. There wasn't a single potential hiding space in sight. He checked behind the large chair though. Just in case. He ventured further into the house, checking the kitchen and the cellar. Bill would have assumed the boy went down into the sewers if it weren't for the fact the rope was bundled up on the floor. That just left the upstairs area to explore. 

The rest of the house was just as pristine. When he reached the hallway, he felt a chill go down his spine. It was eerie. This was the same hallway It chased them through. He started with the room to his right. 

He opened the door and peered in. The room was empty, devoid of any furniture or appliances. The only thing of interest was the wallpaper which had elves with green caps and roses in a long hallway. For some unexplainable reason, the longer he looked into the room, the more uneasy he felt. He couldn't describe it. It just felt like he was in danger. The feeling grew until he couldn't handle it anymore.

Bill closed the door and concluded the boy wasn't in there.

That left only one place where the boy could possibly be hiding. 

Inside the last room was a simple queen size bed, a nightstand beside it, a closet and a dresser, and a desk by the window. The room looked like someone's room, but something was off. It appeared more as a showroom than something lived in. 

If it were Georgie hiding, the young rascal would've hidden under the bed. His little brother did it  _all_ the time and even though Bill knew where he was going to be, he still pretended to not know. It made Georgie laugh whenever he did that.

Bill checked under the bed first.

Nothing.

Closet: Nothing except for a few naked hangers. 

Great. There was still one more room left. It was the same room Richie got trapped in. He didn't know what to expect on the other side of the door. Whatever it was, it was certainly not an empty bookcase and a reaching chair by the window with a lamp.

_Maybe there was something behind the bookcase?_

He checked.

Nothing, too.

 _Where could he be?_ Bill thought, annoyed that he hasn't found the boy yet. The house was pretty bare so there wasn't a lot of places to hide. Maybe Bill missed something. He wasn't going to give up. He was going to win and get that name.

 

He combed the entire house again and again. And then again and _again_ but it seemed no matter how long or how hard he tried, he simply couldn't find the boy!

_This is impossible! Where in the world could the boy have gone?_

He thought again maybe in the sewers but it would be physically and universally implausible. The boy couldn't have climbed down and pulled the rope up afterwards. Other than the room with the wallpaper he refused to go back to, Bill was running out of ideas- and hope.

There had to be a secret room or, or something! The boy couldn't have disappeared into thin air.

Unless... he was a ghost. In that case; 1) That wouldn't be fair and 2) Bill already confirmed the boy wasn't a spirit.

So what was going on? He had to be missing something, probably something obvious. Or maybe the boy was cheating somehow. If that were true, then Bill didn't want to play this game any longer.

He scoured the house one last time before finally giving up.

Dejected and angry at his own failure, Bill grabbed his things and stormed out of the house. 

The boy was waiting for him outside.

He sat on a wood tree swing that was twisted tightly. When the boy spotted Bill, he perked up and lifted his feet off the ground, letting the ropes unwind. "You found me." He smiled softly after he came to a dizzying stop. 

Bill breathed out in disbelief and stomped over to the kid. "Y-you were out here the entire t-time?"

"I never said I had to  _stay_ in the house." The boy replied calmly.

Bill's face went red. He was flustered that he spent over two hours searching inside the house and embarrassed that he didn't think of checking outside once. He frowned at the boy. "D-did I win the game or not? I was going to leave before I saw you."

"Yes, you won." He stood up and went over to Bill. "Before I give you my name, I want you to close your eyes." 

"Why?" Bill said, suspicious of what the boy had in plan. 

"I want you to  _hear_ my name."

Well, that made no sense at all. Bill found it strange but nevertheless, he complied and closed his eyes. The boy's voice whispered into his ear. 

"My name is Robert 'Bob' Gray. _Don't_ forget it."

"I won't." Bill found himself replying and somewhere, deep inside of him, he knew he wouldn't forget. His eyes fluttered open to reveal nobody in front of him.

There was no swing and the tree was twisted and leafless.

He was back in the real world.

 _Robert 'Bob' Gray. Robert Gray. Bob Gray. Robert._ He mouthed silently as he rode home. He kinda liked the name.

 _Robert..._  


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extraordinary drawing of Bill and Robert by the lovely Anon! Thank you so much. I have no words!
> 
> Fan Art: https://68.media.tumblr.com/5a15c44049dff6533bbc2e435abbb3bb/tumblr_owopw9nqhT1tg9ldio1_540.png

1989

_BRRRRIIIINNNG!_

The students in class jumped out of their chairs and flocked to the door. 

"And don't forget to read chapter four! There will be a reading quiz on Monday!" Mrs. Douglas reminded but it fell on deaf ears. The kids were more interested in having a fun Friday than listening to their teacher for a second more. "Oh, hold on Bill, I need to talk to you. Don't worry Richie, I won't keep him for that long."

Bill gave a curt nod towards Richie and Stan who upon reassurance, left his side for the freedom of the weekend. Tentatively, he went to the teacher's desk. He was nervous and he wracked his memory to find anything he might've done wrong to get in trouble for.

"Yes, Mrs. Douglas?" He said in a tiny voice.

The woman looked at him and smiled. "Relax, you're not in any trouble Bill. I just want to know how you are doing."

The boy let out a small sigh of relief and relaxed his shoulders. "I-I'm doing fine."

"And your parents?"

"They're fine, too." He says while finding his shoes suddenly interesting.

Mrs. Douglas looked keenly at him, her brows knitting slightly. "Bill, I gave your parents a call the other day about what you wrote in your summer reflection paper. I don't mean to get you in any trouble, but I am concerned."

"It was just a j-joke." He shrugged.

She stared at him, looking like she had something to say but whatever it was she kept it to herself. Instead she said, "Okay but, if you ever want to talk about anything, your family, friends, your brother, the school has a great counselor; Mr. Torrance. I think it'll really be good for you to see him."

Bill frowned internally. He didn't want to talk to the guidance counselor.

"Thanks Mrs. Douglas. I will." 

"Alright Bill, you have a nice weekend. I'll see you Monday and I expect an A on that reading quiz."

"You got it." He smiled tightly before making his escape. Richie and Stan were waiting for him right outside. 

"Hey, what did Mrs. D want? Did she show you her big bazonga's?" Richie cackled mischievously. 

"Shut up, Richie." Stan snapped.

The glasses wearing boy lit up. "Oooh someone's protective. Ya hear that Bill? I think Stan the man's got a crush on Mrs. D! Is she your girlfriend, Stan?" 

Stan sneered at him, his cheeks turning pink. "Shut it, dude... She's nice." 

"Stan," Richie said sadly, slinging an arm around his shoulder. "I don't wanna be the one to say this but someone's gotta let you down gently. She's way out of your league dude. You're a four, and Mrs. D is like a, solid ten."

They turned a corner and Gretta Keene came into view along with her girl gang following her heels like the loyal drones they are. Gretta was rumored to have made co-captain of the Derry High softball team which was pretty impressive considering she was only a freshman. She strutted down the hallway like a girl on a mission, her presence demanding people move for her. 

"Hi, Bill." She greeted in a passing glance. The girls in her gang also chirped hello to Bill and giggled among themselves as they disappeared into the crowd of bustling teenagers. 

Bill thought nothing of it, but it seemed his friends did.

"What the fuck was that about?" Richie whipped his head back and forth from Bill to the direction the girls were heading to. "Did _Gretta Keene_ just say hi to you?" 

"Yeah and did you see the way the girls acted, too?" Stan added, glancing behind him to catch sight of them.

Bill, on the other hand, shrugged. He was distracted by thoughts of a certain strange house and a certain strange boy.

They exited the school and headed to their usual spot by the bike rack to join up with the rest of the Loser's Club. Ben, Mike and Eddie were there already. Mike used to be home-schooled until high school came around. It was then decided by his grandfather (and with Mike's consistent pleading) to go to a real school to be with his friends. No longer was Mike considered the 'outsider' anymore.

"W-what's up with him?" Bill nodded towards Eddie who was scrubbing his face fiercely with a tissue.

"Belch burped in his face." Ben answered, looking at Eddie with pity.

Richie cursed and helped wiped Eddie's face. "Eds, you're gonna take your whole face off with that thing."

"You weren't there to see it Richie. He burped right in my face! I smelled last night's casserole on his breath and all those disgusting germs wiggling in the air-" Eddie shuddered and used another tissue to wipe his face. 

"Man this sucks." Stan groaned, "We're in high school now and we _still_ get treated like trash. I thought things were going to be different." 

"Nah, that's when you become a senior." Mike informed them. "Or, that's what I heard."

The screeching of tires drew all of their attention to the parking lot. A DeLorean DMC-12 stopped beside the group, the side window rolling down to reveal Victor "Vic" Criss as its driver. "You having fun there Wheezy?" He hollered, a smirk on his face. "Hope it smelled good. Belch had your mom's vagina for lunch!"

"Fuck you, asshole!" Richie yelled, throwing up a middle finger. Belch popped up from the other side of the car and threw a banana peel at them. The older teens laughed dumbly and sped off, almost hitting a kid who had to jump out of the way.

"What a bunch of jerks." Mike muttered.

"You'd think they'd stop after Bowers' gone." Eddie sniffed as Richie took the tissues and threw them away in the trash for him.

The group unlocked their bikes. Ben hefted his backpack over his shoulder. "Hey so, what do you guys wanna do?" 

"I don't know. Let's go to the barrens?" Eddie suggested.

Mike halted and screwed up his face. "Oh shoot, I can't. I almost forgot. I got football tryouts today. Sorry guys, I gotta go."

Ben wished him good luck and the rest of the Loser's Club said farewell to their friend. 

"Well shit, to the barrens then?" Richie said.

"I c-can't." Bill stuttered, hopping on his bike. "I got stuff to do. I'll see you guys later!"

"Stuff? What stuff?" Richie yelled after his retreating form. "At it again Bill? Instead of stuttering Bill we should call you ditching Bill because you ditch! Bye asshole!"

Disappointment nagged at Bill. He felt bad for ditching his friends (again) but there was this  _magnetic pull_ to the house, to the boy, that he was helpless to fight against nor did he want to fight against. He wish he could tell his friends but they wouldn't understand. Bill had to do this alone. 

Plus... he kind of liked the fact he knew something that no one else did.

Robert was his own little secret that he treasured closely.

 

 

Bill made a little detour to his house to drop off his things. When he came bundling down the stairs, his mother called for him from the kitchen. Surprised that his mother talked and was actually calling for  _him_ , he warily went to the kitchen to see what she wanted.

"Honey, where are you going off to in such a hurry? I haven't given your snack yet." She said from the counter, a bright smile on her face. "I made your favorite: peanut butter chocolate chip cookies. You love them."

Bill's hands clenched into fists as he felt the first pinpricks of tears spike in his eyes. "Mom,  _Georgie_ loved that. That was his favorite."

Her bright, cheery smile faded, like it was a facade to hide what truly laid underneath. She stared blankly at him, a lost and confused look in her sad eyes. "Oh," She whispered, and sat down at the table. She covered her face with a trembling hand. 

Bill felt his chest tighten at the sight. It became so hard to breath. He needed fresh air.

He needed to get out of there. 

Away from his mother and away from this empty home.

"Where are you going?"

He paused where he stood and faced his mother. "Why d-do you care?" He immediately felt guilty when a flash of shock and hurt crossed his mother's face. "I'm going to the barrens, with Richie and the others." He told, trying to salvage whatever respect he still had left for his parents. 

"Stay safe, honey..." He heard her say weakly when he left the house.

 

"Hello?" 

The house on 29 Neibolt Street was empty and there was not a sign of anyone living inside.

"Robert?" Bill called, looking around the dilapidated entrance. He waited for a moment, expecting the blue eyed boy to appear and the house to change.

It didn't, and somehow that made Bill feel worse than watching his mom breakdown.

It crushed him.

An angry defeated tear dripped down his cheek and he turned to leave.

"It's rude to keep breaking into someone's house." 

Bill felt a ghost of a smile on his lips. "You broke into mine."

Robert cocked his head, a hint of a question displayed on his round young face.

"The rope," Bill clarified. "You left it on my desk. Thank you, by the way. It costed me a fortune."

Realization dawned on Robert, his eyes twinkling in amusement. He closed the distance between them and caught Bill's tear with his fingers and held it like it were the most delicate thing in the universe. He examined it in minute fascination, then, smeared it below his own eyelid.

"What does it feel like?"

Bill was transfixed on the way his tear glistened on the boy's pale skin. "What does what feel like?"

"To cry." He breathed, eyes wide as saucers.

In all honesty, the boy's reaction freaked Bill out and captivated him at the same time. He couldn't quite place it, but something about Robert kept him in Bill's thoughts. The boy was annoyingly alluring. Bill felt driven by this irresistible urge to pick apart all of his secrets and delve into the mystery of Robert 'Bob' Gray.

"I don't know." Bill mused, "It hurts."

Robert gave him a once-over. "You're not injured."

Bill chuckled softly, "That's not what I m-meant. It's not something you can see. You _feel_ it, like when you're sad. Or, or angry."

The boy stared at him blankly. Bill wondered if Robert _ever_ felt sad or angry before.

Robert stepped back and Bill found he could breathe again. "What are you doing here?" The boy questioned him like he was in an interrogation room.

"You said I can come back." Did Bill miss something? Because if his memory served him correctly, he won their game.

"I never said that." Robert corrected him. "I said I would give you my name if you won. I didn't offer to invite you back to my house."

Bill's brow knitted in confusion. "I don't understand."

"I didn't invite you but I cannot refuse you entrance because you won the game. Meaning, you can return to me anytime- whether I like it or not."

"Why would you do that to yourself?" Bill thought that type of reasoning was absurd! How can someone undermine their own freedom like that?

"It's fun." Robert simply replied with a mischievous little smirk.

Bill smiled back, shaking his head. "You're insane." 

The blue eyed boy clasped his hands behind his back and rocked back and forth on his heels. "Do you want to play a game again? Hide and seek?"

"No- n-no way." Bill had to control himself from shouting.

Robert stopped rocking and frowned. "I thought kids liked to play hide and seek."

"Yeah," Bill scoffed. "For six year olds. A-and why are you talking like you aren't a kid. You're about the same age as me."

"Tag?" The boy asked expectantly.

 _This kid is so weird,_ Bill thought. He also thought Robert's weirdness was quite endearing. 

Bill grinned. "I have something better in mind."

 

 

"This is my bike,  _Silver_." Bill presented the rusty old bike like it was the newest hottest car in  _Hot Rod_ magazine. He climbed onto on and motioned for Robert to do the same. "You can stand at the back-" Robert plopped himself down in front of Bill, like a maiden on a horse from the 19th century. He sat in a way that made his shoulder lean into Bill's chest.

Poor Bill froze, unprepared for the sudden close proximity. His heart skipped a beat when those blue eyes settled on him.

Robert smiled a little smile. "What are you waiting for?"

The boy's voice, and the playfulness reflected in those blue eyes shocked Bill from his paralysis.

A light warm feeling filled Bill and he grinned from ear to ear shouting, "Hi-Yo, Silver! Away!" He kicked off the ground, sending gravel flying up into the air as they took off down the road like two fugitives on the run.

There shouldn't be anything special riding through Derry's familiar streets. He's ridden past them too many times to count and yet... he feels like he's riding through this boring town for the very first time. The same cloudy sky became a breathtaking work of art and same old Derry became a place of mystery waiting to be explored. When he glances at Robert, the feeling of wonder Bill felt was reflected on the boy's face. 

They were both experiencing the town of Derry for the first time.

Together.

They reached the busier part of town. Bill took it upon himself to become Robert's personal tour guide. Every point of interest they passed Bill would tell the boy their names.

"Are we still in Derry?" Robert asks, lips parted in wonderment.

Bill gives him an odd look. "Y-yeah."

"It's different from my memories." He heard the boy mutter.

"What do you mean? Derry's _always_ looked this way." 

Robert flashed him a suspicious look and said plainly, "I don't get out much."

A spike of curiosity urged Bill to press the boy with questions on what he meant by that. Did that mean Robert lived here his entire life too? To what extent can someone stay indoors for so long that they have forgotten what their hometown looks like? Was it because of his dad? The man Bill met down in the sewers did not seem friendly at all. He could imagine a person like that locking their child up forever.

Bill held so many burning questions he was dying to ask but in the end, he kept them to himself. He had a feeling Robert would react.. defensively and Bill didn't want to ruin the moment. _Anyways,_ he thought,  _he could ask them at a later time when Robert is more comfortable with Bill; when he trusts him._

The main road of Derry was coming up. The Loser's Club loved going down this street. It was the only street in town that had an extremely steep slope. It was highly dangerous but worth it. Whenever Bill would go speeding down, he felt like he was flying.

He wanted Robert to experience that, too.

"D-don't be scared." Bill said when they gained traction.

Robert smirked at him, "I'm never scared."

They were zooming down the hill now- too late to turn around. Bill stopped pedaling and let gravity take the wheel. The air rushed past them, blowing their hairs this way and that. The buildings and cars blurred together.

The boy's giggle of delight drew Bill's attention. Robert was smiling, actually smiling! With teeth and everything! Bill didn't want to sound obnoxious, but he was proud of himself for being able to make the boy happy. It made _him_ feel happy and the joyride became all the much sweeter. 

Robert's eyes found Bill's and they just stared at one another as the world around them faded. Then, he cupped Bill's cheek. The boy brushed his thumb against his skin tenderly, the tips of his lips quirking up.

"Pay attention to the road, Billy."

_BEEEEEEEP!_

Bill shouted and swerved violently to avoid the cars as they sped through a four way traffic. An adult got out of his car and waved a fist at them. Even after they were safe away from oncoming traffic, Bill thought his heart would still burst from his chest. Robert's laughter reached his ears through the loud rushing of blood.

Bill couldn't believe it. The kid was actually  _laughing._

"You're insane!" He exclaimed. They were almost hit by a car! They could have died! 

Robert grinned wildly, "Takes one to know one!"

Bill shook his head and couldn't stop the smile spreading on his face. This kid was crazy, but then he thinks, maybe he is, too.

 

Bill wanted to take Robert to the barrens before he remembered the Loser's Club were probably still there. So instead he went to the quarry. He didn't mind going for a chilly dip in the man-made lake- as long as Robert didn't mind too. 

Stripped down to their whitey tighties, the two boys peered over the edge. 

"Scared  _now?_ " Bill said, not bothering to hide the smugness from his tone. 

"Of falling?" Robert gazed at the sky. "No, I think I'll just float."

_Float_

_Float_

**_Float_ **

A far away scream pierced through Bill's mind and he was blinded by memories of that summer filtering through his head like a carousel slide projector. The missing kids, the clown, _Georgie_ \- it all came back to him. When did he ever forget in the first place? Those memories... it felt like they were a long ago dream from another time, in another world. 

He came back to reality with Robert's face inches from his, standing way too close for Bill's liking. He moved closer and Bill was sure if he hadn't jerked back in time their lips would have met. Robert repeated the action, forcing Bill to step back- then another and then- Bill yelped in surprise when he fell off the cliff backwards. Ice cold water engulfed him, snapping him awake. He gasped for air when he broke surface. Robert's childish laughter floated down to Bill, followed by Robert himself. 

By the time Robert reached the surface, Bill was already swimming to shore where they left their stuff. He didn't feel like playing anymore. He felt sick.

He sat on the rocky shore and held his head in his hands. He didn't look up when Robert sat down next to him. 

Why did he have to say that? Bill was having the time of his life and it all came crashing down because of one word. That word: float. Was this how Beverly felt when Bill talked about It. Did he bring up some bad memories for her? Some memories she'd rather forget? Bill felt guilty with regret. He didn't like this feeling; of dread and sadness. He hoped he didn't make Bev feel that way too all because he was an inconsiderate, lonely boy who couldn't let go of the past. 

He made a mental note to thank Beverly for putting up with him. He could call, but he felt like it would be more meaningful to do it in person. Maybe he'll get the chance when winter break comes along.

"Why were you crying?" Bill looked at the boy and saw all trace of playfulness gone from Robert's eyes. "You said before it's not something you see, it's something you feel. You felt sad. Why?"

Bill bit his lip and fingered the little pebbles absentmindedly. "I don't know."

"Yes you do."

Robert's forwardness annoyed Bill, but that was soon replaced with a type of yearning to.. to talk. And for some reason, Bill felt like he can tell the boy anything because... because a part of him believed the boy would care. 

"It's my mom," Bill began, fingers curling into fists. "Sh-she makes me so mad sometimes. Sometimes... I feel like she lost one child, a-and she forgot she has another." He picked up some pebbles and threw them into the water. "I feel like I don't exist to her a-and then I feel bad because- because I don't want to erase Georgie. I don't want to make him unimportant but.. but I don't know. I d-don't know what to do!"

He felt his eyes begin to sting but he refused to cry in front of another boy. "I th-thought everything was going to be better after we defeated It but now? It feels like n-nothing has changed."

But something  _has_ changed. Beverly was gone, Richie and Eddie seemed off in their own little planets, Stan was more interested in girls, Ben was never close with Bill but now it seemed to have worsen, and Mike- well, nothing was wrong with Mike actually. At least Bill had one friend he still recognized. The rest were turning into strangers and he felt so helpless to stop it and frustrated because he didn't know how.

They used to be strong together. The only thing they used to care about was having fun. Everything was so simple back then. What the hell happened? Where did those care-free days and summer ice cream wonders go to? When did things get so complicated? 

"Georgie was your little brother." Robert stated. "What happened to him?" 

_What happened to him?_

Memories of little Georgie in his bright yellow raincoat running in the rain. Little Georgie missing an arm, begging to go home.

**_"I love you, Billy."_ **

**_"I love you, too."_ **

_But you're not Georgie._

Pulling that trigger was the hardest yet easiest thing Bill had to do.

" _It_ got him." Bill dug his fingers into the pebbled shore, a dark look passing his face. "It was this- this clown who would kill kids and feed off their fears. I-It killed my brother and it would have killed me and my friends too if we hadn't fought back."

"What became of the clown?"

_Fear... It's burning eyes were frozen in a state of time. Pieces of skin and blood floated into the air. **Fear...**_

"I don't know. Dead, maybe." Bill tossed another rock into the water. "O-or that's what my friends want to believe."

Robert scooted closer to him, looking at him intently. "What do _you_ believe?"

Bill licked his lips nervously. How was it that those blue eyes captivated him every single time. "I think it may still be alive. B-but that's crazy talk. Maybe my friends are right. I should just move on."

" _Are_ you ready to move on?"

Bill blinked and looked away. Was he ready? He didn't know. And how was he supposed to know when he was ready? Was there some type of revelation Bill was supposed to find? Something that'll set him free from the past? 

His thoughts were broken when Robert curled a strand of Bill's wet hair with his finger. "I had a dream of a being that lived for a long, long time. It was afraid of nothing. Until one day, a child came along and taught it what it meant to be afraid. For the first time, the being felt fear, and it looked at the universe and asked the turtle if the tower had fallen." Robert stared off into the distance, as if he was seeing something Bill couldn't. "The turtle didn't answer the being. It just laughed and flew away."

Bill felt a heavy dread pool in the pit of his stomach. "Robert," He whispered, "... how long have you lived in Derry?"

There was a flicker of confusion in the boy's eyes. "I... I don't know."

Bill opened his mouth to say something when he heard laughter coming from the woods and then Richie and Eddie appeared. They came to a sudden halt when they spotted Bill. Bill scrambled to his feet and turned to look at Robert but found the boy was gone. 

Richie squinted at him, "Bill? What the hell are you doing here?" 

"I-I was swimming." He stuttered, rubbing the palm of his hands against the sides of his thighs. 

The glasses wearing boy looked around the quarry and frowned. "By yourself?" 

"Y-yeah." Bill went and pulled on his jeans and slipped on his shirt. "I was j-just leaving."

Richie waved a hand in the air. "Oh here we go again! Ditching Bill is doing what he does best."

"Richie don't." Eddie hissed, snatching the taller boy's arm. Richie wrenched free from the smaller boy's grip. 

"It has to be said Eds. Someone has to do it. We're all thinking it! Someone has to tell Bill what a huge colossal bag of dicks he's being!"

Bill threw his bike down and stormed over to the kid. "What the hell is your pr-problem, Richie?"

"What's _my_ problem? Are you seriously asking me that?" Richie chuckled dryly, shaking his head. "What's  _your_ problem, Bill? Ever since your kid brother went missing you've been acting really fucking weird and distant. What is it Bill? You think you're too good enough to hang out with us anymore?"

Bill clenched his fists, resisting the urge to punch Richie, _a_ _gain._ "Eddie?" He said, looking at his long time friend who he personally considered his closest friend in the group. Eddie pinched his lips together and trained his eyes on the ground.

"I know, I get it it was just your brother's anniversary not too long ago but that doesn't mean you get to treat your friends like shit!" Richie adjusted his glasses. "You've been flaky and- and frankly, I'm starting to think you don't want to be our friend anymore and I don't know if I wanna be your friend too."

Hearing those words was like being shot by a gun. Bill blinked back tears. "My brother's name was Georgie. He used to laugh at your jokes. And he didn't go missing, he was murdered."

Richie and Eddie stared at him blankly. Then, Richie ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry, Bill. I... I forgot..." 

Bill picked up his bike. "Me, too." He said before walking away.

He wasn't mad at Richie anymore. There was something far worse troubling his mind. Richie could be a major jerk sometimes, Bill knew that, but he would  _never_ have forgotten about Georgie or the clown or what happened that summer. Neither would Eddie, nor the rest of the Loser's Club.

So what the hell was going on?

Even Bill himself forgot what happened before Robert said that word and triggered those memories. Speaking of Robert... When Bill entered the dirt path and was out of view from anyone who might see him, something from behind covered Bill's eyes.

"Guess who," A playful voice said into his ear.

Despite his sour mood, Bill smiled goofily. "R-Robert." He was rewarded with his sight being returned.

"You remembered." The boy appeared and walked along side Bill.

"I don't think I'll ever forget." He bumped into Robert's shoulder. "Why did you disappear back there?"

The boy clasped his hands behind his back and hummed. "I don't like being seen." Bill waited for him to clarify on what he meant by that but Robert just shrugged nonchalantly. "That's all."

"Y-you let me see you back at the house." 

Robert's brows creased slightly. "I didn't." The boy suddenly invaded Bill's space. " _How did_ you get into my house? I didn't let you in."

Bill gulped and leaned back against his bike. "I-I don't know! I swear, I don't know."

The boy cocked his head, squinting at him in suspicion. Finally, he backed away. "It's never happened before. Nobody has ever entered my real house without my say so. You're the first."

They continued strolling down the dirt path. Bill thought of the house and what Robert had said. What did he mean by  _real house_. Did it meant that the house on 29 Neibolt Street, the one that looked old and decrepit, was an illusion to hide the beautiful one underneath? Or was Robert's house the one that was the illusion? Was this whole thing just one big illusion?

Just a dream someone was having? 

"It has to be the clown." Bill concluded. "Richie's memory loss, it's similar to what happened with the adults. People would just... forget about the missing kids. A-and you. I don't know what connection you have to It, but there's gotta be a reason we met." Nothing ever happens in Derry without a reason and Bill may not know what it is now but he is determined to find out. "We have to go back to the sewers. We'll find It there."

Robert skipped forward and walked in front of Bill backwards. "I thought you wanted to move on."

"I can't." Bill whispered, a look in his eyes like a man possessed. "Not when there might be a possibility that It is not dead. I can't s-stand back and do nothing when the whole town of Derry might still be in danger. I-I'll do it alone if I have to." He stopped and gripped the handles tighter. "But I don't want to do it alone." He gazed into those blue eyes. "Help me."

Bill couldn't do it alone. Even back then, he couldn't do it alone. 

"The sewers are lovely, dark and deep." Robert mused, "But a clown I did not see. I know those sewers, Billy. I know them like the back of my hand. Not once have I ever seen a clown down there."

"It's supposed to be asleep every twenty-seven years. It must be hiding." 

Robert smiled and skipped away. "Then let's go find It!" He chirped over his shoulder. "Come on, I know another way into the sewers. It's not too far from here."

"Now? B-but I don't have my things! I need my baseball bat!"

"You said It'll be sleeping."

"Yeah and when it wakes up? How am I going to protect you?"

The boy turned around and smirked impishly. "Then I guess we'll have to be really quiet, won't we?" 

"Robert, I don't know." The boy didn't seem to be listening so Bill snatched the sleeve of his shirt to get his attention. "L-listen, how about we go tomorrow."

In the blink of an eye, Robert, who had been standing right next to him, disappeared and reappeared a few feet away, a disturbed look on his face. "Don't do that." He warned lowly.

Bill scrunched up his face, feeling a bit whiplash from the boy's sudden change of mood. "I don't understand? What did I do?"

"Do you just go around touching people without their permission?" Bill was taken back at how angry Robert sounded.

He combed back his damp hair and said, "No, b-but you do that all the time with me!"

Robert glared at him, honestly looking quite intimidating, and got up in Bill's face. "Then I guess I should stop. Play time's over." He marched past him and out of his peripheral vision.

Panic seized Bill. He didn't want Robert to leave. Not like this. "W-wait." He reached out but grabbed at nothing but air. Robert was already gone.

 _What the hell was his problem?_ Bill thought to himself. Robert left him angry and sorely confused. Did he say something wrong? He was just telling the truth. It was irrational for Robert to have gotten mad at him... and it was also irrational for Bill to feel guilty when he did nothing wrong.

"Fine then!" He yelled into the open air. He was sure if someone happened to see him, they would have thought him a mad man. "Be that way! See if I care."

He wanted to mean what he said but the stupid truth was-

He did care.

 

    

 

It seemed after their little fiasco at the quarry, there was a subtle drift in the Loser's Club. Things were tense around Bill and Richie, with Eddie between acting as their buffer. Stan and Mike tried talking to Bill but he would always turn them down or find some way to escape conversation. There was nothing  _to_ talk about anyways. Richie didn't want to be Bill's friend anymore and that was that. He wasn't going to try to make amends with someone who deliberately stated they wanted nothing to do with him.

Bill wasn't the bad guy here, Richie was and per usual, the glasses wearing boy was too stubborn to admit it.

The day of Halloween was depressingly cloudy and chilly, the perfect mood to set for a night of trick r' treating in all hallows eve. Bill was unlocking his bike, ready to head home after another boring day at school when the rest of the Loser's Club arrived. Of course, Richie hanged back, probably waiting for Bill to leave to get his bike. Mike was the only one who approached Bill. 

"Hey Bill." He greeted, flipping a football in his hands.

"Mike." Bill went to leave with his bike only for his friend to stop him.

"Hey man look, I don't know what's going on between you and Richie, but you're still our friend. You're still my friend. I just wanted to let you know that we're starting at the barrens to go trick or treating at five. In case you decide to join us."

Bill wanted to flat out say no but took pause.  _What was he doing?,_ he thought. He wasn't mad with the whole group, just at Richie. He shouldn't let his anger effect his other friendships. "Thanks Mike.. I'll think about it."

"See you later, then." Mike said with a hint of a question at the end.

"Yeah, m-maybe."

He didn't mean to give false hope, but all Bill wanted to do was go home, stay in his room and do nothing but maybe draw, write or sleep. 

There were no Halloween decorations put up at his house. Their used to be; the Denbrough family used to love carving jack-o-lanterns, hanging cobwebs and lighting spooky candles.

It just wasn't the same without Georgie.

And a part of Bill felt it was wrong to do it without him.

The only sign of Halloween in this household was a bucket of candy outsider the door with a note reading:

**Please take only one!**

Bill rolled his eyes when he read that. Did his parents forget what it was like to be a kid? When they discover the whole bucket empty before the end of the night, Bill would most likely blame it on Richie. And then Eddie would probably scold him and they would bicker like an old married couple about the rules and sharing until eventually Richie would concede to make Eddie happy.

A hollow pang of loneliness hit Bill's chest. He missed hanging out with those guys...

Up in his room, Bill was sat at his desk drawing. Laughter broke him from his somber concentration. He glanced out the window to see a group of young costumed kids run by his house, swinging their pillow bags filled with what was surely candy.

He bit his lip and glanced at the clock.

4:39

Bill shut down that tiny voice telling him his friends wouldn't want him there. Instead, he threw open his closet and dug out his old Halloween costume. He only had time to find parts of it. Before leaving, he checked himself in the mirror. 

Fangs? Check.

Cape? Check.

Fake blood on his mouth? Check.

He didn't look like Dracula but close enough.

The boy left, rushing to the barrens. On his desk the sketchbook laid open, forgotten, filled with drawings of a certain red haired girl, a little boy in a raincoat, a clown with no face... And a young boy he couldn't quite place where he's seen him from. Every time he tried to remember anything, there was a foggy haze clouding his memories.

He could only recall a name: Robert 'Bob' Gray

 

"Well look who actually showed up." 

"Shut up, Richie." Eddie elbowed the taller boy and sent him a sharp look. 

"Bill! You made it." Mike greeted him warmly. "We were just about to head out."

He smiled back weakly and examined the group. They were all dressed in jumpsuits and carried plastic vacuums. Ben was the odd ball out. He was dressed as the Slimer, and had water guns filled with a green ooze.

"Ghostbusters?" Bill deduced.

"What are you supposed to be, Dracula's emo step-son?" Richie commented.

"Beep, beep, Richie." Eddie snapped and walked along side Bill as the group headed towards the neighborhood. "Don't listen to him, Bill. He's just being a dumb jerk."

"He s-sure is."

The little pre-teen frowned at him. "Hey, don't act like you're the innocent one in all this. You're just as guilty as he is."

"Me!" Bill's brows rose in surprise. "What did I do?"

"You ignored us, Bill. You're off in your own world and it felt like you forgot about us." Eddie glanced at Richie, concern in his eyes. "Did you even know his mom got so drunk she told him she wished he was never born?"

A jolt of shock shot down Bill's body. "No, I d-didn't know that. Is he ok?"

Eddie pressed his lips into a thin line. "I don't know, I think so. But Bill, he needed you the most and you weren't there. I think he took that harder than what his mom said to him."

Well... shit. Bill felt like the biggest jerk in all of history, even more than Henry Bowers. Richie, despite his flaws, was always there for Bill.

They reached another house and got their candy. 

Eddie sighed, "Look, I don't care who's the bad guy in all this because to me both of you are acting like complete dumbasses and one of you should just apologize already. You're the more reasonable one, Bill. You've always been."

Loud music reached their ears. They stopped before a spooky looking house; purple, green and red lights flashing inside. Cars were strewn about, some even parked on the lawn. The door swung open and a teen girl in heels and a skimpy outfit stumbled out and barfed into the nearby bushes before going back inside.

"I think that's the place where the Halloween party is." Stan said.

"How do you know that?" Ben inquired and the rest of the Loser's Club looked at Stan.

Stan shrugged self-consciously, "I overheard some older kids talking about it."

"Well gentlemen," Richie spoke in a low voice, like a spokesperson on T.V. "I think there's one thing left to do. We should crash that party!"

"What?" Eddie sputtered and shook his head violently. "No way, dude. There are _teenagers_ inside. They'll know we don't belong there and they will kill us!"

"Aw, is my Eddie Spaghetti scared?"

"Don't call me that, I hate it when you call me that."

"I think we should go inside." Mike spoke up over the bickering boys. "What do you think, Ben?"

Poor Ben glanced wearily at the house and shook his head timidly.

"Stan?" Richie asked.

Stan looked around the group and shrugged his shoulders.

Mike turned towards the last person. "What about you, Bill?"

They all looked at Bill expectantly. It came as a shock to realize whatever his answer was, they would follow him. Bill forgot... how much they depended on him during... that summer... What happened that summer again?...

"Come on Bill!" Richie whined, "This'll probably be the only time in our lives that we get to go to a party. We're not called the Loser's Club for no reason."

Bill gulped. He was going to regret this... "S-sure.."

Richie and Mike cheered while Eddie and Ben paled. Eddie complained the whole way to the door. He shut up when they entered and loud music drowned out their voices. The heat of too many people crowded in a small place overwhelmed the young boys and there was the stench of alcohol in the air. They made there way deeper into the house like a group of explorers in the amazon jungle.

"Oh thank god, they have punch. I'm parched." Eddie yelled, heading towards the snack table. He grabbed a plastic cup and went to fill it up.

"I wouldn't drink that if I were you." Richie warned just as Eddie scooped red juice from the punch bowl with a ladle.

"W-why?" Eddie gazed at the punch bowl in horror, probably fearing there was a disease lurking insde. "What's wrong with it?"

Richie just sighed and slung an arm around Eddie, leading him away from the table. "I don't think there's just punch in there."

Bill tried to follow them but they were swallowed up into the crowd. He looked back to check if he was with his other friends but they were gone too. "D-dammit." He muttered under his breath and set out to search for them. He entered another room where it was much clearer and easier to breath. Bill scanned the room and when he confirmed his none of his friends were there, he went to leave when somebody yelled at him.

"Hey, you! Yeah you!" An older girl pointed at him from where she sat on the carpet floor. "The bottle landed on you, Dracula. You gotta go into the closet with her." She pointed towards someone and he followed with his eyes until it landed on a girl dressed as a witch. Bill doesn't remember her name but he did recognize her as one of Gretta Keene's cronies. The witch girl smiled at him shyly when they made eye contact.

Bill gulped and took a step back. "Uh- I d-don't-"

"Come on kid. Don't be shy." One of the older boys sitting around the circle got up and slung a heavy arm around Bill's shoulder and used his weight to drag Bill over to the closet. The witch girl was already waiting inside. He shoved Bill inside and grabbed the door, a wicked smile on his face. "You got seven minutes. Have fun kiddos." The door slammed shut, leaving the two alone with only the light bulb for company. 

The girl giggled, twirling her hair. Bill felt nauseous. 

"So.. what do you wanna do?" She asked. 

Bill looked around, his palms becoming clammy. "T-talk?"

She giggled again, "You're cute when you stutter."

And then it happened. Her face was coming closer to his, her lips puckering in anticipation. 

 _Oh god, what the hell was he going to do?_ Panic seized Bill, freezing him to the spot. The only girl he's ever kissed was Beverly, and that was only twice! He cursed Richie for putting him in this situation but then he remembered he wanted to go into the party too, so Bill cursed himself. 

Oh god... he didn't want to kiss her but he also didn't want to hurt the girl's feelings. He was done acting like a jerk.

He prayed one more time, to god and then to whoever was listening. 

The second before their lips touched, the light bulb flickered and died, leaving them in complete darkness.

"Ow!" The girl yelped, startling Bill. "Did you just pull my hair?"

"N-no." 

"Ow, ow!" Light invaded the closet, blinding Bill. "You're horrible Bill Denbrough! Horrible!" The girl cried and ran away with tears in her eyes. Bill was left speechless, unable to form words hell even an apology. 

"Bill?" He heard someone say. Mike's face popped into view. "Bill! There you are. Come on man, we gotta get out of here!" He pulled Bill from the closet. Stan was with him, red smeared all over his lips.

"Stan," Bill examined the boy's mouth. "W-what happened to your mouth?" 

A goofy smile spread across the boy's face, a dreamy look in his eyes.

Mike just shook his head. "He was caught kissing Jenny Hobermann."

"S-so?"

"Jenny is Vic's girlfriend."

Bill's eyes widened as big as saucers. "Oh.. s-shit we gotta get out of here."

"Way ahead of you."

They hurried back to the living room and spotted Richie standing among the crowd. He appeared to be in distress, watching helpless from the sidelines as Ben was flipped over by a bunch of jocks. 

"Chug! Chug! Chug!" 

Ben was red in the face as he drank from a long tube connected to a keg barrel. 

"You guys, let him down the poor kid's gonna have a heart attack!" Richie yelled. Thankfully, Ben was set down and the chubby boy swayed where he stood. 

"Richie, Ben, we gotta split fast." Mike said.

Richie adjusted his glasses and sniffed. "I hear ya, this place is getting too crowded for my liking."

"That's not it. Stan got caught kissing Vic's girlfriend. If we stay here any longer we're dead meat. Literally!"

Instead of dread, Richie lit up and raised his hand towards Stan for a high five. "Stan the man! Way to go buddy! You scored big, dude."

Mike shoved Richie's hand down. "No time for that! We gotta go. Where's Eddie?"

At the mention of Eddie, Richie's smile dropped. "Oh shit, where the fuck did he go? He was right behind me. Aw fuck, poor kid's probably having an asthma attack."

They found Eddie in the kitchen surrounded by a bunch of girls who were all cooing at his adorableness.

"What the fuck." Richie wiped his glasses. "Dude... how."

"What can I say?" Eddie grinned cheekily. "The ladies think I'm cute." 

"Oh please." Richie rolled his eyes and pulled Eddie away. They turned to leave and froze when a monstrous bratty voice roared over the music.

"You!" Vic growled, pointing a finger at Stan. Belch and some other older boys stood behind Vic, effectively blocking any possible exits. A dumb ugly sneer marred Belch's face as he punched his fist into his other hand menacingly. 

"Gentleman, amigos, comrades! Can't we talk this out like the reasonable men we are?" Richie laughed and shrunk in on himself when Vic sent him a nasty glare. "Or not." He squeaked.

"You kissed my girlfriend!" Vic snarled at Stan.

Stan- their long time friend, quiet smart Stan, always the sensible one in the group- opened his big mouth and said, "What can I say? I'm a raging sex machine."

Vic roared, his face turning a flamin' hot red and advanced on the group. Eddie screamed a few octaves higher than what is considered normal for a boy when Richie bravely blocked the bully's path.

"Get out of the way four eyes and you might live to see another day." Vic warned dangerously.

Richie raised his chin, "If you wanna get to my friend, you gotta get through me."

Mike stepped up. "And me."

"Me too." Ben hiccuped.

Me too!" Eddie added, looking like he was about to faint at any second.

Vic sneered, chuckling. "Fine. I guess I'll start with you first." He fisted Richie's shirt and pulled his fist back ready to strike.

"Hey V-Vic!" Bill yelled, gaining the bully's attention. He stood on the table carrying the punch bowl. "Don't mess with my friend, asshole." He raised the bowl in the air and dumped it over Vic and his gang. Thankfully, Richie escaped Vic's hold before any of the punch could land on him. The gang was distracted, slipping and falling on the tiled floor. It was the perfect opportunity to escape. "Let's go!" Bill hollered and ran for the door. 

"That's not just punch!" Eddie screamed at them.

"Get them!" Bill heard Vic roar.

The Loser's Club ran out of the house and into the dark streets. 

"I think we lost them!" Ben huffed, struggling to keep up with the rest of the group. As soon as those words left his lips, two bright lights washed over them. Angry honking and the revving of Vic's car startled the boys. 

"Run!" Bill shouted. The boys didn't need to be told twice. 

Mike waved his hands around. "Scatter! Scatter!" 

They all ran in different direction. Bill caught a flash of Eddie and Richie hopping over a fence before he himself sprinted around the corner. He didn't know for how far or how long he ran. Not far enough, since he could still hear the car and the gang's whooping and hollering in the distance. Finally, he spotted a back alley he could hide out in. It wasn't perfect  by any means but at least he'll be off the street where he would have been in plain view.

Bill rested against the wooden fence to catch his breath. He hoped the rest of his friends were safe, even if it was temporarily like him. 

_"Billy."_

Bill jumped and looked around wildly. He thought he just heard someone whisper his name. A sudden, dread feeling told Bill to turn around. 

There, at the end of the alley, someone was there standing directly underneath a street light. Bill squinted, trying to get a better look at the person. What he saw made his heart freeze. 

It was boy... in a clown costume.

The light pole flickered and the boy was no longer there.

Light as bright as the holy light of heaven lit up Bill. The boy spun around and faced Vic's car. The high beams blinded Bill, and he had to hold up a hand to see. The doors open and out stepped the gang. 

"Look what we have here boys! It's the stutterer." Vic sneered. 

"I'm n-not afraid of you, Vic." Bill declared, standing his ground. He's faced worse... didn't he?

"You hear that? He's not afraid of us." Vic mocked, and the rest of his gang laughed on cue. "Where's the rest of y-y-your f-f-friends, boy. That's right, you're all alone." 

They advanced on him, a mean glare in their eyes. Though there were more of them and one of him, Bill balled his fists. He was ready to go down fighting if he had to.

He was ready to swing his fist at the first person to get close to him when suddenly, Vic and his gang froze where they stood, the mean smiles on their faces dropping. Bill, for one irrational second, thought it was because they realized he was going to fight back but no... they were... they were staring bug-eyed at something  _behind him._

His stomach dropped and he felt his skin crawl. Bill wanted to turn around-  _tried-_ but his body simply wouldn't budge. A small part of him didn't want to see whatever was there that made Vic and his gang so scared. 

Battle screams broke them from their paralyzed fear.

"He's not alone you freaks! Attack!" Bill heard Richie say before the boy himself appeared.

The Loser's Club came rushing out of nowhere, hitting the bullies with their vacuum tubes and swinging their pillow cases filled with candy. Ben aimed his water guns and dowsed the gang in green slime. The Loser's Club cheered as Vic and his gang scrambled back into the car, defeated, and high-tailed it out of there.

Richie came up to him out of breath, "You ok there Bill?"

"Y-yeah. Thanks for coming to my rescue."

"Yeah well," Richie shrugged and fixed his glasses. "I was about to get a fist in my mouth but  _you_ saved me. So I guess we're even." 

Bill smiled and stuck out his hand. "Friends?"

Richie puckered his lips, but then it cracked into a grin. "Friends." He confirmed, shaking Bill's hand.

"Oh for the love of- Would you two just hug and get it over with! I'm tired of both of you acting like a bunch of idiots." Eddie yelled at them. The Loser's Club broke into laughter and formed a hug circle.

When they broke apart, Bill said to the group, "I'm sorry I was acting like such a jerk these past few weeks. Thank you guys for p-putting up with me. I couldn't ask for better friends, I really couldn't. A-and I'm sorry Richie, I was your friend and I wasn't there for you when you needed me the most."

Richie looked taken aback, and he coughed into his fist. "No Bill, it's my fault. I was the one acting like a complete jerk. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose somebody that close to you. I should have been more understanding. I'm sorry." He sniffed and shook his body. "Alright, alright enough with the love confessions. The night's still young my ghoulish friends and there be plenty of candy awaiting us! Let's go!"

 

 

 

Bill came home smiling for the first time in a long time. 

For at that moment, Bill was a regular boy again who had a fun night out with his friends; no thoughts of little boy's in yellow raincoats or clowns in sewers or a boy with sad blue eyes present in his mind. 

He was about to go up to his room when he heard something coming from the kitchen. When he went to investigate, Bill saw his mother sitting on the floor sobbing into his father's arms, broken dishes scattered around them. 

"I'm a terrible mother!" She wept. Bill thought she looked as fragile as a brittle autumn leaf, ready to shatter at any moment. 

His father shushed her and smoothed her hair soothingly. "It's ok Sharon, shh, shh, it's alright. You're not a terrible mother. You're strong, you're so strong... Bill? Bill go up into your room, I don't want you to see this." 

"Billy?" His mother called weakly, getting to her feet and reaching out for her only son with a bloody hand. 

A tear slipped down his cheek and Bill turned around and fled.

He didn't know where he was going. He just had to leave. Escape.

Away from his mother's haunting eyes that he didn't recognize anymore.

And the blood- the blood brought back memories he didn't know if he wanted to remember. The pain and loss came back ten folds stronger, ripping whatever happiness Bill managed to find from his grasp. 

"Robert!" His shaky voice boomed in the large empty house on 29 Neibolt Street. He called the boy's name again, hugging himself and feeling like he was about to collapse any second. He hung his head low when the house didn't change; the boy didn't come. 

His breath caught in his throat when he noticed blood on the floor and not only that, but a blood trail leading deeper into the house, like something  _dying_ was dragged away. A wave of nauseating fear shook him to the core. 

 _Robert... Oh god... It got him. It got him!_  

Bill didn't think twice about following the trail of blood. He didn't care if he was unarmed and alone. He would fight the clown with his bare hands if he had to, if it meant saving Robert. He wasn't going to lose anyone else.

Never again.

The blood trail continued down into the sewers. Bill had a sinking feeling he knew where it ended.

There was no more blood in the sewers, having been mixed with the gray water. It was fine; he didn't need it. Bill knew the way. 

He balled his hands into fists to stop them shaking. He wasn't scared of It. He was scared to see what has become of Robert.

_There was so much blood..._

He blinked back burning hot tears. He couldn't protect Georgie and now he couldn't protect Robert. He failed, again. The thought of the blue eyed boy in pain, the clown's gloved hands tearing away at his flesh, almost brought Bill to his knees.

And then he heard it- munching,  _crunching_ sounds, like a monster feasting on a little boy's body. It was coming from inside the showroom. 

Bill didn't want to go. He couldn't bear to see what he knew was happening. But go he did. He clambered up the ramp and prepared himself.

There, in the middle of the what he could only describe as a theatre stage, was the shape of someone bent over something. 

Bill breath hitched when he realized it was no clown. 

The person, as if sensing somebody behind him, looked around their shoulder, revealing a pale gaunt face and familiar piercing eyes that paralyzed Bill. It was the man, the same man from down in the sewers. A soft bleating noise drew Bill's attention away. 

Laying on the ground, barely visible, Bill saw the head of a sheep, it's fur stained with blood. 

 _"Baa"_ It cried weakly.

 _Oh god..._ Bill thought he was going to be sick.  _The animal was still alive..._

The man showed no reaction when he saw Bill. Instead, he stood up; standing impossibly tall, like he was a giant and Bill was an ant. But the most frightening thing was the stark red blood smeared around the bottom half of his face, a disturbing contrast against the man's milky white skin. The man took a step forward and Bill turned on his heels only to come face to face with Robert.

Bill yelped and tripped on his own two feet, falling flat on his bum. He gazed up at Robert in fear. The boy was dressed as a clown. He wore a dirty white cotton jumpsuit with three red puff balls as buttons; his face coated white with a small red dot on his little round nose and the imitation of a smile painted blue over his mouth and cheeks. The make up was ruined, though, by dark shiny blood covering his mouth and crawling downwards staining the ruffles around his neck. 

"I thought you've forgotten about me." Robert whispered, sending a chill down Bill's spine. 

Bill crawled back and remembered the man was behind him but when he looked to check, there was no one there but the dead sheep; it's entrails strewn out like messy spaghetti. 

"What's wrong, Billy?" Robert cocked his head, "You look scared."

"R-Robert I don't, I d-don't understand.. I thought you w-were.. I thought.."

"What did you think I was?" Robert didn't want for Bill to answer. The boy walked down the ramp and Bill shakily got up and followed him. They sauntered past the rotting bodies of the missing children. Robert came to a stop, gazing at a skeleton wearing an old, faded blue dress. "Did you think I was one of them?"

"Y-yes." Bill breathed, "I thought.. I thought It killed you long ago and somehow, you've been trapped here all this time."

Robert gazed up at the grated ceiling, the moon shining down upon them. He reached out with one hand, yet curled back his fingers and put it down. "I don't remember dying." He opened and closed his blood stained hands. "I don't feel dead."

"I feel... unreal. Like I'm just a dream someone else is having." Robert gazed at Bill, a soft sorrow reflected in those blue eyes. "You forgot about me, Billy."

"No! No I would n-never forget you-"

"Yes you did!" His voice echoed among the catacombs, loud enough to wake the dead. "I  _felt_ it."

Bill opened and closed his mouth, tears forming in his eyes. "I didn't want t-to." He said weakly, wrapping his arms around himself. "I was g-going to come back. I wanted to say sorry f-for what happened the other day but.. but I fell asleep... I was mad at you.."

Bill could remember it all now. He went home after Robert disappeared so suddenly. He was mad at him and Bill was mad at himself. He went to bed but he couldn't sleep because thoughts of Robert kept him up all night. He wanted to sleep, wanted to sleep so bad that he forced himself to stop thinking of the boy. Pushed him to the back of his mind and tossed the key. 

When Bill woke up, all memory of Robert had faded, like mist after morning. The feeling that something was missing remained. 

"I remembered your face and your name. But I c-couldn't remember  _you_." Bill didn't care that he was crying in front of Robert. That was last thing he cared about. "How is that possible? How could I have forgotten you so quickly? How could I have forgotten Georgie?"

"I searched the sewers." Robert said, his face devoid of any emotions. "I swear, Billy, I did. I looked everywhere. There's no clown."

"W-what are you saying?"

"Maybe... You want to forget. Maybe you should." 

Bill stormed over to Robert and grabbed his shoulders. The memory of what happened before when Bill touched Robert unexpectedly flashed through Bill's mind but he disregarded it. He could face the consequences later. Right now, he needed to do this. 

"I don't  _want_ to forget you." Bill said firmly through his tears. "I am  _sick_ and _tired_ of losing people I care about. After that summer, I told you I felt like nothing has changed. My mom was sad and she still is... and I am too. I thought I would never feel better but then you came along and for the first time after Georgie died, I felt happy. _Truly_ happy and alive. So, you can't say that I want to forget because I don't. I'd rather remember all the horrible things than forget about you." He crushed Robert to his chest and hugged him like the boy would disappear at any moment. 

And after a pause, Robert hesitantly hugged him back. 

"No one's ever said that to me before." He whispered into Bill's ear. "Have you gone mad, Billy?"

Bill didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Maybe," He sniffed and pulled away but still close enough to hold the boy's arms. "Why are you wearing that?" Bill finally asked, grimacing at the distasteful outfit his friend was wearing. 

Robert cocked his head innocently, "It's Halloween, is it not?" 

"Please, take that off." Bill fidgeted, playing with his fingers. "Also.. c-can I stay for the night? I don't want to go home..."

"Depends," Robert shrugged nonchalantly, but the slyness in his eyes told a different story. 

Bill frowned, "On what?" 

 

When Bill entered Robert's room it was dark save for the dozens of glow sticks hanging from the ceiling. 

_So that's where they all went._

Kicking off his shoes, Bill tossed the bag of candy and climbed onto the bed. It wasn't long before Robert came inside having ditched the costume and face paint. 

"How long have you lived in Derry?" Bill asked sometime later. Robert, who was wearing Bill's cape because he wanted to, swallowed another gummy worm and shrugged.

"I don't know. A long time, I guess."

"B-but what is your earliest memory?"

Robert took pause, rolling a lollipop around in his mouth thoughtfully. "I really can't say. I just... woke up one day."

"But then, who gave you your name?"

"My name?"

"Yeah, was it your mom or dad..."

"I don't have parents." 

Bill frowned, "Wait then, how do you know your name is really your name?"

"Because I do. You know your name is Bill."

"That doesn't make sense-"

"Yes it does. I know my name is my name, like I know the sun is the sun and the moon is the moon. I just know." Robert reached inside the pillow bag for another treat but all the candy was gone. The boy pouted and shook the bag and then flipped it inside out. 

Bill sat up in astonishment. "Did you eat all the candy?" That could've lasted him for weeks! When Robert said he wanted to eat some of his candy, he didn't think he meant all of it!

Robert stared at the empty pillow bag, his face going grim. "Something's wrong with me. Something's very, very wrong with me."

"What, what is it?" Bill grew concerned. He never heard Robert sound so worried before. 

"I'm hungry." Robert said with all seriousness. 

Bill couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeah, m-me too. You ate all my candy."

"You don't understand." Robert urged, " I've  _never_ felt hungry before. Something's different this time..."

Bill bit his lip, "Then eat."

"I've tried but nothing fills me up. I'm starving and it  _hurts_."

"Is that why..." Bill started putting the pieces together. "... You were eating that sheep? I saw your dad eating it, too."

"My dad?" He echoed, his eyes flickering in confusion. 

"Yeah your Dad..." Bill faltered when a sly smile spread across Robert's face. Then something in his mind clicked. Those eyes... Oh! How can he be so stupid sometimes! Bill blushed in horror as he remembered the first time he encountered the man. "Oh my god... I k-kicked you in the balls... I hit you with a baseball b-bat!" He snatched Robert's face (making the boy flinch from the sudden skin contact) and touched the spot where he was sure the bat connected with his head, checking to see if there were any bruises. 

Robert simply giggled in delight, "That was fun. I hadn't felt pain in a while."

Bill stopped his mothering and thew a soft jab at the boy's arm. "You were the m-man in the sewers this whole time? I thought he was your dad! A-and why the hell did you act like such a creep?"

"I didn't know who you were." Robert said innocently.

"You ch-chased me." Bill deadpanned. 

"It's been awhile since I've met someone."

"You  _cut_ my cheek!"

Robert grinned mischievously. "I couldn't help myself. I had to make sure you were real." 

"I c-can't believe you are the man." Bill rested his head in his hand. A sudden thought popped in his mind. "Wait.. h-how is that possible? How did you-" Bill jumped back in shock when the man- no, Robert- laid stretched out on the bed sideways, his long legs hanging off the edge. 

"Change into this?" Robert waved a hand over his adult form. "I don't know how, really, I just can. Like how I know my name is my name." 

Bill licked his lips nervously. The shapeshifting reminded him of a certain clown. "Can you.. c-can you change into anything else?"  _Like a leper or a leech sucking lady?_

Robert shook his head, and it was so bizarre to think this person was really Robert. Bill can see the resemblance but still... 

"No, I can only change how I look based on what age I prefer to be." 

"Can you change back?" Bill asked in a tiny voice.

"Sure," Robert the kid said. Bill was  _sure_ he didn't blink this time.  _How the hell did he change so fast?_

"It used to be able to change like that." Bill said, recalling the memory of Georgie in the sewers. "The thing, the c-clown, It would become our worst fears. It tried to use it against us but when we learned that we didn't have to be afraid, we beat It, n-no matter what It looked like. It couldn't scare us anymore."

"It turned into Georgie." 

Bill blinked in surprise and nodded. "Yeah.. It did." 

**_"I love you, Billy."_ **

He squeezed his eyes shut and willed the tears away. 

"I was scared."

Bill snapped open his eyes. 

"You scared me." Robert confessed, a vulnerable openness in those eyes. "It's been so long since I've felt someone touch me... I can't remember the last time. I don't think anyone's ever touched me..."

Robert didn't have to explain further. Bill understood. He startled the boy that day at the quarry and if Bill went over all the times they've touched, it was always Robert who initiated it, discounting the hand touch in the beginning. He scared the boy and Robert's first response was to react with anger. Bill didn't blame him. He would have done the same thing. They were only human.

"I'm sorry, I promise I won't do th-that again." Bill said. 

"No!" Robert almost yelled, uncharacteristically looking panicked. "Don't. Don't promise that." The boy was so distressed that it moved Bill to hold his hand. Robert stared at it. "It makes me feel real."

"You  _are_ real." Bill said firmly, tightening his grip. He felt tears coming to his eyes. "I-I'm scared that one day, I'm going to wake up and realize this is all a dream. Th-that _y_ _ou_ were just a dream my mind created so I wouldn't be lonely. I don't want that to be true."

Robert gazed into Bill's eyes, and smiled softly. "I'm not real enough for you, Billy? Does this feel real?"

Bill stopped breathing when Robert leaned in... and gave him a chaste peck on the cheek. Where those lips touched, his skin burned. Robert's giggles traveled through Bill's ear and invaded his mind. It wasn't a kiss on the lips like Beverly, but somehow it left him oddly dizzier, something that's never happened when he kissed his friend. 

Robert peered at him under his eyelashes. "Did that feel real?" 

"R-real-" Bill coughed into his fist, hiding a blush spreading across his cheeks. Shouldn't Bill feel grossed out instead of flustered? A boy- Robert just pecked him on the cheek... and he liked it. Oh, what was going on with his heart? It was beating so hard it must be skipping a few beats. "R-real. Very real. Feels... real."

Robert just flashed him a juvenile smile in response and laid back. Bill joined him, breathing in and out deeply to settle his racing heart. He swore at how fast it was going, he could've won first place in a competition. 

Slowly, so he wouldn't be noticed, Bill chanced a peek at Robert. The boy was gazing up at the glow sticks as if they were stars in the night sky. Bill was mesmerized at the sight. 

"Are you still hungry?" Bill whispered.

"Yes."

"Oh," Bill deflated, "I wish there was something I can do." He tensed when in a flash, Robert hugged Bill's middle and snuggled up to him, resting his head against Bill's chest. 

"It's bearable when I'm close to you." Was Robert's only explanation. The boy was unashamed and Bill found that... strangely ok with him. In fact, he didn't mind at all.

A yawn escaped Bill's lips. What time was it? 

Robert poked Bill's back. "Sleepy?"

Bill hummed, his eyes drooping closed. He wasn't going to sleep; he was just resting his eyes.  

"I never feel sleepy."

"That's weird." Bill mumbled, his mind drifting to oblivion.

"Tell me your dreams when you wake up." 

" _Be here_ when I wake up." Bill said, unconsciously hugging the boy tighter. "Don't be a dream..." 

"No promises."

Bill fell asleep to the sound of Robert's melodious giggles. 

_Don't be a dream..._

 

  

 

A sheep was reported missing from Mike's grandpa's farm a day after Halloween. No culprit was ever found but suspicion holds that Vic and his gang are somehow responsible, maybe as revenge for their humiliated defeat at the hands of the Loser's Club.

After Halloween, Gretta Keene and her friends would sniff and turn up their nose at the sight of Bill.

Bill didn't feel too bad about that.

After Richie and Bill put aside their stubbornness, the Loser's Club was reunited stronger than ever and they could be seen hanging around their official spot: the barrens. 

Bill's mother came into his room one night while he was doing homework. She set down a plate of carrots, smiled, and kissed his forehead before leaving him to his studies. 

When winter break came around, Bill hugged Beverly and apologized for the bad memories he brought up all those months ago. 

"You got weirder." She smiled brightly, pinching his arm. "What clown are you talking about?"

When the quarry froze over, the Loser's Club went ice-skating and when Bill saw her and Ben holding hands, he felt nothing.

Even though his friendships were mended and his relationship with his parents slowly growing again, his parents and his friends would always wonder where he goes to when he disappears for hours.

On New Year's Eve, Bill looked back at his past and then let it all go. 

In the beginning of a new chapter of his life, Bill watched the fireworks from the top of Derry's water tower. He then looked at the boy with blue eyes sitting beside him and knew-

They were going to be ok. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for supporting the story and special thanks to MonstaGrrl; your words really touched me in a not weird way haha :J

1992

_Don't be a dream..._

Bill awoke silently, the dream he was having reduced to watery images and hazy emotions.

"Bad dream?" Robert's voice spoke in the dark.

Bill relaxed his arms that were wrapped around the blue eyed teenage boy. "No," He mumbled, clearing his throat to make his voice sound less sleepy. "Not bad. Just... weird."

Robert shifted in the bed so his face was inches apart from Bill's. It seemed no matter how many times those eyes focused on Bill, they always had a way of making his breath hitch and his heart flutter uncomfortably. "Are you going to write about it?"

"No, it's not one of those dreams." Bill usually drew his ideas for stories from the dreams he had. "This one's different. It was about the time we first met. Everything was all the same but... It's so strange. You were dressed as a clown for Halloween but I remember... you weren't."

Something flickered in those pale eyes, too fast for Bill to decipher before it was gone. "Dreams are weird. They're not bound by the rules of reality."

Bill frowned, "I know but this one... this one felt so  _real_. It was so vivid, like I was actually there."

"You  _were_ there. In the past."

"Yeah but... I felt like I was living it." Bill couldn't find the words to describe what he experienced, which was ironic considering he wants to be a writer for a living.

Robert stared at him, his pale face devoid of any emotion and when he spoke, his voice was soft, like the caress of a ghost. "In your dream... did anything else happen? Anything unusual?"

Bill thought for minute and shook his head. "No. Not that I can remember... Oh shoot. What time is it?"

"I reject the concept of time!" Robert said with a child-like enthusiasm and fist-punched the air.

"I know you do." Bill sighed as he bent half-way over the bed to grope for his watch. He found it beside the empty pizza box. 

_6:42_

"Robert," Bill groaned, rubbing his face to wake himself up more. "I thought I told you to wake me up at six."

The corner of Robert's lips curled slightly. "Must have slipped my mind..."  

"I can't trust you with anything." Bill joked as he reluctantly slipped out from underneath the warm covers. He tried to brace himself but the cold temperature inside the room engulfed his body, shocking him awake. Rubbing the goosebumps on his arms, he walked around the room, slipping on his jeans followed by his converse.

Robert stretched like a cat. "You really can't." He said lazily, sprawled on the bed, following Bill around the room languidly with his eyes.

Bill paused and looked around in confusion. "Hey, have you seen my shirt- No. No come on, that's the fourth shirt you've taken from me."

"It's mine now." As if to emphasize his point, the pale teen wrapped his arms around himself as if he claimed territory over the shirt he wore. "What's that saying? What's yours is mine and what's mine is mine."

"I don't think that's how it goes..." Bill said but couldn't stop a silly smile from spreading across his face. He could try to get his shirt back but honestly it was a pointless endeavor. Robert had a mysterious way of getting away with things... Ok, maybe not so mysterious. It was more Robert doing whatever he wants because he feels like it and Bill letting him because... because well something happens to Bill's heart that makes his brain go all gooey.

Plus, he kind of likes the way Robert looks when wearing his clothes...

 _Weird thoughts again, Bill._ His inner voice reminded him in his mind. Swallowing down a rise of anxiety, he got to work collecting his things to distract himself, his first objective being to grab a shirt from the closet.

At the desk he shoved his textbooks and papers with doodles all over them into his backpack. It was Bill's desk, really, considering he was the only one who uses it. In fact, over the years Robert's room slowly became Bill's room. 

What was once a plain, hollow room came to life under Bill's presence. The closet was no longer empty; filled with Bill's clothes since he practically lives there and piles of Bill's favorite books dominated one corner of the room. The area around his desk was littered with dozens and dozens of his drawings and sketches pinned to the wall. He gazed at them, at drawings of random people and places. Scenes and characters from the stories he created in his mind. If you think the wall looked crazy, Bill's desk looked even more chaotic. His desk was covered with papers containing short stories, complete and incomplete; sporadic ideas and messy notes of possible future books he hopes to one day write.

When the glow sticks finally ran out of juice, Robert kept demanding for more until Bill brought a glow in the dark stars kit that satisfied his friend's strange desires. Well, satisfy was a pretty tame word. Robert fell in love with it; says it makes him feel more at home and that it gave him something pretty to look at while Bill slept which was a good thing because it meant he won't be staring at Bill the entire night. One time, Bill woke up in the middle of the night to find Robert's face inches from his, just, staring at him absently. 

 _"I'm bored."_ Was his only response when Bill asked what he was doing.  _"Sleep is stupid. You don't need to sleep. Stay awake and play with me."_  

Bill does not know how many countless nights he's lost sleep because Robert wanted company or attention. He swears his friend is turning him into an insomniac, if he hasn't already, that is. He didn't mind, though. He liked spending more time with Robert and it made his friend happy, too.

And what Bill wouldn't give or do to make Robert happy. Every smile or laugh from the boy was like a shot of cocaine straight to his poor heart. It revitalized Bill, made him feel energetic and positive about life. He's never done drugs but he thinks this is what it must be like and if that were true, he could understand why people get addicted.  

Whenever Bill starts to feel down again and those dark thoughts come creeping back, he can go to Robert and everything will be alright again. There was something about the blue eyed boy that makes Bill feel better. Even if they're not talking, just being near him breathes life into Bill; like he is an empty husk of a body that used to be a person and with Robert's help, he feels more human.  _Alive._

Robert fills that hollowness that would always threaten to swallow Bill whole until he was left in nothing but darkness. 

Bill doesn't know what to think about his... his emotional dependency on Robert. Ever since that fateful day down in the sewers, he and Robert have grown closer and closer until Bill can't imagine a world without him in it. And god but, he is so, so paranoid and afraid that one day Robert will disappear, like he never existed and- and-

How will Bill cope then? 

_He won't._

And that scares him the most because Bill... would die. Wither away into dust- into nothingness.

He knows it's not himself talking. Bill is stronger than that but if that time ever comes (and god he hopes it never will) a part of his brain is telling him he will die. What would be the point? Living without Robert would be like living without air.

Anyways, Bill is probably better off dead. No one would really miss him...

"What's wrong." 

Bill blinked out of his thoughts and realized Robert was staring at him intensely. 

"N-nothing. I'm fine." He replied, his eyes unconsciously flickering away and back. He gulped when he saw Robert narrow his eyes. His friend can look quite intimidating when he wanted to be.

"Billy," He said lowly, sounding almost irritated, "I know,  _you_ know, I know when you're not  _fine_. Stop trying to always pretend because it hasn't worked in the past and it won't work now or ever. So before I punch you, I suggest you tell me _what's wrong_."

"Alright, alright! Just don't hit me, please." Bill said, raising his hands in case Robert was going to actually punch him. He wandered over to the bed and plopped onto it, the springs in the mattress making him bounce a little before coming to a rest on his back.

The seriousness on Robert's face vanished, replaced with the boy's usual mischievous personality. "Too late." He grinned and proceeded to punch Bill in the chest.

"Hey- ow! You said you wouldn't!" Bill cried, rubbing the spot where Robert hit him. It was already sore. 

Robert giggled. "I lie."  

In response, Bill could only smile and shake his head. Ladies and gentlemen, this is what it's like to have Robert Bob Gray as your best friend. You can expect unexpected punches and spontaneous mischievousness. It was daunting at times, but Bill would have him no other way.

Since they've met, Bill has come to understand being friends with Robert is vastly different from being friends with, let's say, Richie or Mike. It's not a normal friendship, per se. For one thing, friends, especially _boys_ , do not sleep in the same bed nor do they enjoy the closeness cuddling brings. And it wasn't like they did it for no reason. He doesn't understand it, but somehow if Robert is close to Bill, it quiets his hunger. 

_"It helps me. When I'm close to you, I don't feel as hungry. I don't know why. I've never felt this way before."_

He had his theories. _It_ fed partially off of fear; a human emotion. Bill wouldn't be surprised if it worked the same way with his friend, except instead of fear Robert craved... emotional intimacy? Bill still had his doubts but it was the closest explanation he could come up with that made some sense. And it wasn't like he was too far off from the truth. Robert  _did_ seem to want a lot of platonic intimacy, but maybe that was due to the fact that the boy hasn't had  _any_ contact with, basically, anyone his whole life. 

It would be like giving cat nip to a cat who's never had it before.

Unfortunately, that meant Robert doesn't understand the concept of personal space. Boundaries don't exist in his best friend's dictionary, apparently.

Still, Bill would be mortified if he accidentally slips into one of his other friend's bed out of habit. Or like the other day, he and Stan were walking to the Barrows and Bill went ahead and held his hand without a thought. Stan, of course, looked at him strangely and asked if he was alright.

When Bill realized what he was doing, it left him confused. That whole experience was extremely jarring. He was so used to holding Robert's hand during one of their explorations that it has become second nature to him. He forgot boys don't do those kind of things. 

He forgets it's not... natural to do things like that. But here, inside the house on 29 Neibolt Street, in Robert's room, it's like he's stepped into another universe.

They were in there own little world in here, and everything outside doesn't exist.

Maybe that's why it's so different with Robert because Robert _is_ different.They're too close for friends; too intimate for boys.

 _What are they?_  

What is Robert to him and what is he to Robert?

Bill may never know but he knows one thing for sure: He cares about Robert. Deeply. Maybe too deep but he finds that he doesn't care. As long as they are together, they'll be fine.

Robert caught Bill's attention by pinching his nose softly. "What's wrong?"

Bill swallowed, ignoring the warm feeling spreading in his chest. "I don't know. I think I was thinking too much again."

"You should stop thinking, then." He replied like it were the most obvious thing to do. He tapped Bill's forehead. "Too many thoughts in there...ideas, dreams. You don't need them. They don't need you."

Bill chuckled softly, waving away his prodding finger. "I do need them, actually. It's what makes a person.. them. It's what makes me, me and you..." Bill faltered, becoming momentarily lost in Robert's eyes. "... You." He blinked and cleared his throat, looking away. "A-anyways, I was really just thinking about what I'm going to do. School's almost over and I don't know what to do yet. I feel like everybody else have their whole lives planned out and i'm still over here wondering _what am I going to_ do?" Bill carded his fingers through his hair, blowing out air. "I feel like I should know already and yet... I don't."     

"You applied for that college in London."

"I haven't heard back from them yet and who knows if they will accept me... Maybe it was a mistake. I'm not _that_ great of a writer. I should just do something else." 

Robert squinted at him, "They will. They would be fools not to. You're an amazing writer. You're better than everyone else."

Bill laughed, shaking his head. "Thanks, Robert, but I don't think that's true or right or.. humble at all. I don't _want_ to be the best. I just want to write."

"Then what's stopping you?"

Bill flinched at his question. Sometimes, Robert can be a little too direct but Bill admired that in him. He never beat around the bush. Robert was open, honest, and a straight to the point kind of person, which was ironic considering the boy loved to play mind games all the time.

"I don't know. I guess, i'm afraid I won't be good enough? That I'll realize i'm chasing some dream that won't come true... That no one will like what I have to share with the world."

"You shouldn't care what anyone else thinks."

"I know but.." Bill sighed heavily. "I probably should just forget about it. I won't be able to make a living with just my writing, anyways. Maybe my parents are right. I should find a real job and keep my writing as a hobby."

"Your parents are idiots." Robert said bluntly. In response, Bill scoffed in surprise. "They don't know what's best for you."

"And you do?"

"Don't I?"

Bill laughed but didn't say no. He would never admit it but sometimes he felt like Robert knew Bill better than Bill knew himself. 

God, what would he do without him.

A sly grin crept on the boy's pale face. "Are you planning on ditching school to stay with me?"

Confusion filled Bill until realization dawned on him. Heart beating fast, Bill checked the time and cursed. In a flash, he jumped off the bed and scooped his backpack from the floor.

"I'll be back." He announced, sweeping his eyes around the room to make sure he had everything. His eyes landed on Robert and a pang of jealousy hit his chest. He wanted to stay and waste his day away in bed... preferably with Robert...  _only_ with Robert but alas, school awaited and Bill _did_ need to graduate if he wanted to move out of this small town and away from his overbearing parents. Don't get him wrong. He loves his mom and dad but he needs space. Sometimes, it was hard living with them. 

"You promise?"  

Robert always looked so serious when he asked that- and he asked that  _a lot_. Bill wondered privately to himself if Robert was still afraid he was going to forget him.

But didn't he know? Bill would  _always_ return to him. Whether he wanted to or not; he can't stand to be apart from him.

"I promise." Bill replied firmly to reassure his friend; to soothe his worries. He didn't leave until Robert nodded, giving him a small smile.

Bill took the stairs two steps at a time. Arriving at ground level, he snatched his bike from its usual place; leaned against the wall in the hallway near the main door. He stepped foot outside, bike in hand. The second he turned around after closing the door behind him, something heavy crashed into his chest, followed by long arms snaking to crush him in a hug. Bill didn't have to see who it was to know it was Robert. Without thought, he let his bike drop to hug him back. 

He had to stretch a little to hook one arm around Robert's neck. It wasn't fair, really. When his friend straightened to his full height, he towered over Bill and most of the time Bill had to crane his neck when talking to Robert. Bill used to be the tall one, and it wasn't like Robert sprouted because of puberty. The boy was supernatural. For all he knew, Robert could have done it on purpose just to bug Bill.

Robert hid his face in Bill's neck, and he tried not to shudder when the taller boy breathed him in. "You don't have to," He said softly, his lips  _barely_ brushing against Bill's skin, making goosebumps rise.

Bill's brows knitted together in confusion. "I don't have to what?"

"Come back. You don't  _have_ to."

"I know." Bill said, even though he has never even considered it a choice before. "I  _want_ to."

Robert's arms tightened around him and then-

They were gone.

By the time Bill arrived at his house, sneaked back through his bedroom window, and plopped on the bed (hoping to catch a few more minutes of sleep) his alarm rang. He snoozed it with a groan, cursing himself; cursing himself because he stayed up all night with Robert knowing he had school in the morning.

But then again, he would do it again.

He would do anything for Robert.

 

 

He received his acceptance letter in the mail one uneventful morning. With shaking hands, he opened the envelope and took out a neatly folded piece of paper. He read it's contents and went numb.

In a daze, he walked to the living room and stopped by the doorway. His mother was there, playing on the piano. She noticed him after a while of him just standing there in shock. 

"Bill," She said, the music cutting off abruptly. "What's wrong?"

The shock finally wore off, and realization dawned on Bill. "I... I gotta go." She called his name but Bill was already bolting out the house. He had to tell Robert the great news. 

"Robert?" Bill said right when he entered the house on 29 Neibolt street.

He was met with silence.

Bill frowned. Strange... Usually his friend would jump out and try to scare him right about now. Bill called his name again while heading up the stairs to the room. He was fairly disappointed to find he wasn't there either.

_Bang!_

Bill jumped a foot in the air.  _What the hell was that?_ It sounded like a door slamming shut. It came from down the hall and Bill knew there was only one room over there. A room he hasn't gone near since the first time he entered it.

Slowly, Bill went out into the hallway, training his eyes on the closed door. "Robert?" He stepped forward, the floorboard under his feet creaking loudly. Bill swallowed, working up the courage to get closer to the door despite every inch of his being telling him not to.

He gasped when something collided into his back, almost making him lose his footing. 

"Tag." Robert whispered into his ear and Bill could hear the smirk in his voice. "You're it."

Bill twirled around to catch Robert but the boy was already gone. He dashed to the stairs and clung to the edge, catching a glimpse of the boy leaving the house, the front door left wide open in invitation for Bill to follow.

Without prodding, he took chase.

It seemed no matter how fast Bill was or how close he was too catching up to Robert, the boy was always one step ahead of him. It was impossible to catch him, but Bill had a feeling that wasn't the purpose of the game. 

Secretly, Bill suspected Robert liked the concept of being  _chased_ more than he liked the concept of being caught. In Robert's mind, either way, he was winning. 

They ran across a grassy field towards a cluster of abandoned railroad cars; forgotten and rusting away in its negligence. He caught sight of Robert climbing a ladder up to the roof of one of the cars. He followed and once on top, he jogged towards the end of the car. It provided him with a better view to scan the area, one he used to his benefit.

Bill would have presumed Robert had jumped off and ran farther ahead but past experience told him that wasn't true.

Sometimes, all Bill had to do was wait and Robert would come to  _him_.

And sometimes, Bill would  _sense_ him.

"Robert," He said, a knowing smile creeping on his face. A force from behind slammed into him, knocking him off his feet. Robert tackled Bill to the ground, effectively pinning the shorter boy underneath him, his hands wrapped around Bill's wrists like iron shackles. In a daze, Bill gazed at him, noticing a few strands of his hair falling over his face. Bill had the sudden urge to brush them back, if only to fix Robert's perfectly combed back hair.

Robert pouted at him, clicking his tongue. "You're no fun. How'd you know?"

"I don't know." He answered honestly, trying to ignore how hyper-aware he was of their closeness.

Robert cocked his head, an inquisitive look in his eyes. "Shiner." He stated, rolling off of him to sit over the edge of the car. "Don't let the man in black catch you."

"Who?"

"The boogeyman." He answered over his shoulder. Bill sat next to him, their legs dangling over the edge.

"Is he like... It?"

"No." Robert smirked, kicking Bill's leg playfully. "Not at all."

Bill kicked back, resulting in a footsie war that ended all too quickly. A moment of silence passed between them, their feet occasionally bumping into each other. Bill sat back and took in the wide expanse of trees that belonged to the forest that surrounded most of Derry. He realized things would be different living in London. There were no forests as far as he was concerned. He didn't know how to feel about that. Bill always did like nature and the peaceful solitude it invoked. It helped him countless times with his writing.

But then again, he guessed it shouldn't matter where he was because he should be able to write anywhere, anyways. Still, he will miss the calmness of those trees.

He will miss home. Not his parents house; Robert's. 

He liked it there. Liked it a lot. There were good and bad memories in that house, but he will always remember the good ones; meeting Robert one of them. That was the best time of his life and he would't trade it for anything. Robert has, in many ways, changed Bill's life around. Where everything else was chaos, Robert was an absolute. His little sail boat in a storm.

 _S.S Robert,_ Bill thought, amused. 

He glanced at Robert sideways, his smile fading. 

Robert was the best thing in his life... and that's why he wasn't going to leave Robert behind.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Maybe."

"What do you think of London?"

Robert shrugged, "I don't. I've never been there."

Bill bit his lip, trying to formulate a way he can describe the city. "It's kind of like... in one of your dreams. That place, with all the big shiny buildings and fast trains."

"Monorails. Blaine was a monorail." Robert corrected and studied the sky. "So you're saying London is similar to that place?"

"Yeah, well, sort of. It's not as amazing as the city in your dreams but, it's kind of like that. Except without all the flying cars and... technological wonders..." Bill coughed awkwardly. Man, thinking about it now, London wasn't as great compared to the futuristic city Robert described to him once. Not even close.

Robert squinted at him, "Why are you telling me this?"

Bill felt a thrill of excitement shoot down his spine. He opened his mouth to lie but gave up before he could even try. The cat was out of the bag, so to speak. Robert was already suspicious and it won't be long before he finds out the truth. Nothing gets past Robert. 

A smile tugged at the corners of Bill's lips. "Close your eyes."

"Close  _my_ eyes?" Robert asked, mildly incredulous.

"It's a surprise." He insisted, his excitement growing.

"I don't like surprises." Robert muttered but closed them anyways.

"That's ironic." Bill chuckled quietly and scooted closer to his friend. Their thighs ended up pressing against each other and their shoulder touched. Bill leaned back, allowing him to position his arms around both sides of Robert, holding the letter in front of his face. A kind of child-like giddy filled Bill with anticipation, and he couldn't wait any longer. "Alright, you can open them now."

Bill held his breath the second he knew Robert spotted the letter. He took it and examined it shortly before unfolding the letter. Robert's face remained neutral as his eyes scanned the paper. After what felt like forever, he finally lowered the letter on his lap and looked at Bill. "Are you going to go?"

"Yes. No? I don't know. Maybe? I haven't decided yet but anywhere's better than here, right? At least I won't be around my parents." He felt kind of bad for saying that, but it was the truth. He loved them, but it was the kind of love that needed space and right now, it felt like the house was not big enough for the three of them. "A-anyways, I was asking you about London because I was wondering if... you wanted to come with me."

Robert blinked, and it would have seemed like nothing to a stranger but to Bill, he knew he caught him by surprise. "Go with you. To London?"

"Yes." Bill breathed, praying he didn't sound too hopeful. "I-I mean if you want to. I'm not forcing you or anything. I'd just like for us to stay together. I don't want to have to leave you behind." 

_I don't want to be without you._

"If you do decide to come, I won't be living in the dorms at the college. We can rent our own place so you can walk around freely without being seen." He snickered, thinking about their living conditions. They'll probably have to live in a tiny dingy apartment where the water runs cold at the worst of times and where the electricity cuts off randomly and it won't be the best but it will be  _their_ place. And maybe they will have to resort to eating take out every night because he won't be able to afford a proper meal but it wouldn't matter because they will have each other and that's all Bill could ever want. "It won't be the best." He warned. "I heard the houses there are pretty expensive, and that's not even looking at the apartments. I think the best we'll get is a closet, if we're lucky. It'll be a real down-grade compared to your house but I think we can make it work. We've practically been living together already-"

"You want me to go?" Robert asked, cutting him off from his ramblings.

Bill bit his bottom lip. "Yes."

Robert's brows knitted together as he stared at his hands. "I want to, Billy... but I can't."

"O-oh." Bill deflated, his once good mood gone. "I understand." 

"No, it's not whatever you're thinking." Robert paused before speaking again. "I can't leave Derry."

Confusion filled Bill. "I don't understand. Why can't you leave Derry?"

The look Robert gave made Bill uneasy.

 

"Stop. Right here."

The bike skidded to a halt, a few feet away from the  _Derry Welcomes You!_ sign. Robert climbed off, Bill following suit.

"No! Stay there." He snapped.

Bill shifted uncomfortably, "Robert, what's going on? What are you doing?"

The tall boy ignored him. He slowly walked past the sign and stopped, turning around to face Bill. Bill held his breath; he didn't know what to expect so he prepared for the worst- whatever that could be. They waited in terse silence but nothing happened.

"Robert," Bill said anxiously, disliking the situation. "I don't think anythin-"

Robert tensed and hunched over, a grunt escaping his lips. Right before Bill's very own eyes, thorns erupted on his arms, neck, and face. They grew and grew, wrapping around Robert like some kind of vine monster. To Bill's horror,  _roses_ sprouted from the vines.

"Stop!" Bill cried, dropping his bike and snatching him and with one firm tug, pulled Robert back into Derry's border. Robert collapsed, breathing harshly through his mouth. The blooming roses withered into ashes along with its vines. Bill helped him sit up, frantically checking to see if a few remained but they were gone, not a trace of what had just occurred left on his skin. No scars... not even blood. "What the hell was that?" Bill questioned once he finally regained his senses.

"I don't know." Robert breathed, trying to catch his breath. "I just know it happens when I try to leave Derry."

"Are you alright?" Bill did a quick examination of his body, convinced Robert was gravely hurt somewhere. It shocked him straight to his core seeing Robert in pain. Bill privately promised himself he would never allow whatever happened happen again to his friend. He would not bear it to see the boy in any kind of pain, ever.

"I'll be fine." He struggled to get to his feet and Bill had to help him up.

"Has this always happened?"

"It was worse in the beginning." Robert glared at the Derry sign. "But I've learnt to control it, somewhat. I can delay it for a while but the roses always comes back. So you see, I'm trapped here. I can't go with you to London even if I wanted to and I do, Billy, I really do want to." 

"Well, I don't want to leave without you." Bill said, surprising Robert _and_ himself. He didn't meant to say that. He didn't even know that was what he felt until he said it right now and the more he thought about it, the more it came true.

Bill  _did not_ want to leave Robert.

"I don't want you to either." Robert confessed quietly, licking his lips. "But that's selfish of me. I shouldn't hold you back."

"You don't hold me back." Bill said rather incredulously. "Y-you push me forward. I wouldn't be where I am or who I am without you."

The tips of Robert's lips quirked up. "Don't be sentimental. It's gross."

They started walking down the road, away from the border of Derry. They settled on going to the Barrens. Bill made sure none of the other Losers were there first. Robert was still oddly adamant about not being seen. It sucked sometimes because Bill wished his friends could meet Robert and vice versa.

Bill propped his bike and they went to sit by the edge of the stream, kicking off their shoes and dipping their feet in the water. He gazed at the Barrens, a lot of good memories coming back to him. "Me and my friends built a dam here once." He got up and trudged through the rushing water, waving his hand. "Right here." He smiled, imagining the Loser's Club as little kids again, building their dam with the random stuff they managed to gather. "It was Ben's idea, really. Richie didn't believe it would work but... it did. It was hard work for a bunch of kids but we did it. Together."

Echoes of their laughter bounced around Bill's head. A longing pain filled his chest. He wished he can go back to that time when they were all together. He hasn't seen or spoken to Beverly in a long time, and Ben moved away sophomore year. But he supposes, that's what memories are for; to appease the monster of nostalgia.

Robert got up and went to stand by Bill. "Are you going to miss them when you leave?"

"Yeah, I will. A lot." He cleared his throat, mindlessly kicking the water. "But I guess nothing stays the same forever, no matter how much you want it to."

A turtle swam past them, using the current to sweep it down the stream.

Robert stared at it, his facing turning grim.

"Nothing ever does."

 

 

_Bill_

He was down in the sewers again; the whispered voices of his friends coming from the hole. He walked to the edge and peered into the darkness. 

A force pushed him, knocking him off balance and straight into the hole. Bill twisted around, catching a glimpse of a humanoid shape before he was swallowed up into nothingness. 

He was falling... falling... falling...

And then he wasn't anymore. He opened his eyes and saw he was in an endless white room. There was nothing around except for a door.

Bill hesitated to approach the door yet something inside him, similar to a magnetic force, compelled Bill to walk forward.

The sound of someone breathing reached his ear, along with a slow and steady beeping and the closer he got to the door the louder the sounds grew. Once he stood before the door did the breathing and the beeping stop, cut off like someone had turned off the T.V.

The door was nothing spectacular. It was a solid rectangle carved from frosted glass with no signs of a doorknob. In the middle of the door, printed with a clear glass design, was the symbol of a cloud with a thunderbolt striking out of it and underneath it were the words: **S.C - N.C.P**

Unable to stop himself, Bill reached out and touched the glass door. It dissolved upon touch. 

A whooshing noise scared Bill after he was so used to the quietness of the white room. Hooks upon thousands of hooks glided into existence, rushing past Bill at impossible speed and at the same time, stopped with a loud jingling bang. A fog settled over the area, making it hard to see anything clearly that was not a few feet from him.

Bill could only describe the place to be somewhat similar to a refrigeration room, the ones used to store meat. He knew this from Mike. He couldn't feel the cold but he could see his breath each time he exhaled, telling him that the air must be freezing.

In the distance, he heard music. 

_~ Just remember, darling, all the while... You belong to me ~_

There was nothing to do but head towards it.

Sometime along his way, a feeling came over him. He halted and looked to the right. 

A chill crawled down his spine.

In the distance, he had spotted the shape of something hanging from one of the hooks. Bill couldn't tear his eyes away from it, fearful that if he looked away it would try to get to Bill.

He was staring for so long his eyes began to burn and- oh god, for one second he thought he saw something move in his peripheral vision. 

"Hello?" An unfamiliar voice broke the silence, echoing in the seemingly endless storage room. It was that of a man. He didn't sound mean, or threatening. Just curious.

Bill was about to reply but the words died in his throat. He went very still and tried to stay as quiet as possible.

"Are you there?" The man spoke again, coming from the direction of the hanging shape. "Are you thereeee?"

Bill almost jumped in fright when he heard someone quietly crying from behind the strip doors. Like watching himself in a movie, Bill carefully walked towards the flaps, making sure his footsteps made no sound. He pushed aside a flap and stepped into the other side. It was an actually room this time, with bright lights and pale tiled floors. The music played normally in here but he could not see where it was coming from.

_~ Just remember when a dream appears.... You belong to me ~_

His eyes automatically landed on the source of the crying. In the corner was a bald, naked old man with a long shaggy beard. His ghastly body was curled into a fetal position, his face tucked into his bony knees preventing Bill from seeing his face. He was weeping and it sounded like the next breath he took could be his last.

Bill wondered why he was crying, that is, until he noticed another person in the room. It was a shirtless man with long hair that was tied up in a loose ponytail. He had his back facing Bill, too preoccupied with something on the table that he hadn't noticed the newcomer behind him. It was rather a good thing he hadn't noticed Bill, for on the table was a young boy withering on his belly like a worm on someone's palm. And like a worm, the boy was missing his arms at the elbow, horrible black stitching marking the spot they were removed.

And his face... He had no eyes; no eye sockets too. Just plain smooth skin, like he was born without eyes. He was whimpering softly, accompanied by the sounds of wet-like noises. 

_Squelch... Squelch..._

Nausea swept over Bill. The man was doing _something_ to the boy but his frame blocked Bill from seeing exactly what.  

_~ I'll be so alone without you... Maybe you'll be lonesome too, and blue ~_

The man began whistling in tune with the song as he set aside a blood-stained metal meat chopper. His fingers drifted above an assortment of sharp utensils. He plucked a meat tenderizer, raised it in the air, and with one mighty swing brought it down, causing a loud crack; thunderous in the quiet room.

Bill gasped the same time the boy screamed. Panicking, he slammed a hand over his mouth and froze. 

_Oh god... oh god please, please.. He didn't hear him... please, please..._

Dread washed over Bill when the man paused, cocked his head, and then ran his fingers through the boy's hair. The young boy flinched under his touch.

Unsure he was safe or not, Bill glanced at the old man in the corner and wished he hadn't. The elder was staring at him, his face a sunken, decaying mummy and Bill would have been afraid of him if the old man didn't look fearful himself. With one shaky finger, he brought it to his lips, all the while never taking his eyes off Bill.

 _~ But remember, darling, till you're home again... You belong to me ~_  

Bill needed to leave. He had to get out of here.

He shouldn't be here. Oh god, he shouldn't be here.  

Quiet as a mouse, Bill backed away until he passed through the flap doors again. 

A scream tore from his lips when something grabbed him from behind and began dragging Bill across the floor. His first instinct was to fight back. He squirmed around trying to break free from whoever had a hold of him. All too quickly he was lifted up like he weighed nothing and-

Bill struggled to breath. Pain pierced his back as something sharp broke his skin, scraping and hooking under a bone. He peered down and saw his feet dangling in the air.

_Oh god.... ohgodno-_

He felt a strong grip on his shoulder, prompting Bill to raise his head.

"One hell of a nightmare, Sleepwalker." It was the shirtless man and he was grinning at him monstrously, his eyes gleaming wickedly behind a pair of lenses. "Oh, don't worry... It gets worse." He lifted his hand off Bill's shoulder, and as if he was anchoring him down, Bill flew up.

He tried to scream as the hook inside his back tugged. No sound came out aside from the disgusting noises of him choking on his own blood. The ground rushed away from his feet. Bill could't tell how high he went. The light disappeared leaving him in complete darkness.

A quick screech of what could only be metal scrapping against each other came from below him, accompanied by bursts of bright sparks. Once. Twice- 

The dark space below erupted in a fiery blast of heat and metal, revealing a leviathan of churning saws underneath Bill's feet, the powerful whir of the machine spinning drowned out every of his senses.

If Bill were to fall in, his body would be minced into tiny matter like ground beef and his bones reduced to dust. 

The chain he was hanging on began to lower; inch by inch closer to the spinning vortex of death. 

"N..N-no..No!.." Bill grasped at the chain and with a strength fueled by the adrenaline running through his veins, lifted himself up. He could feel the hook inside his back slide against muscle until it caught on something that made him gasp in pain. 

_The curve, the curve! The bone- his bone. In the way, in theway intheway!_

The chain dropped, plummeting Bill down into the hellish saws below. 

The world darkened.

There was no pain or fear.

Just silence.

Bill felt weightless, like he was floating in outer space... but where did all the stars go?

And then, he was gazing up at a mind-blowing ginormous naked Robert. He was lying on his side, he's skin glowing like the burning of stars and his hair an ethereal pure white. But it was his eyes that stupefied Bill; twin pulsating luminous burning orbs that could be the end product of a supernova. It hurt just to look at him but Bill couldn't tear his eyes away even if he wanted to.

Slowly, like how giants moved in movies, Robert rested his chin on his hand, like he was bored just looking at Bill.

Under his eyes, Bill felt like an insignificant ant compared to this other-worldly being.

Robert's huge hand hovered in front of Bill, his middle finger curled back to rest on his thumb and without a care, flicked Bill away with his finger.

It didn't hurt. The only thing that bothered Bill was that he was flying further and further from Robert and his heavenly presence. 

He flew faster and faster, the darkness around him shedding away to reveal indescribable patterns of color and images of wonder that boggled Bill's brain. It was like looking through a kaleidoscope, only he was inside one and he was falling straight into a bright light that Bill recognized to be one of Robert's eyes.     

Gravity pulled at him and he was falling at incredible speed so fast his skin began slipping off and the light of Robert's eye scorched his body, melting his eyeballs and frying the blood in his veins.

Yet, Bill didn't care. He was enraptured by the beauty and all he desired was to become evanescent in Robert's cosmic essence.     

The last of Bill's being burned away, his mind becoming no more-

 

Bill shot up in his chair, blindly looking at nothing.

The many faces of his classmates stared back. 

He jolted when a hand touched his shoulder. He snapped his head up to see face of his teacher looking down at him. 

"Mr. Denbrough, glad to see you awake. Now if you can stay awake throughout the rest of my class, that would be a miracle." A couple of teens giggled quietly but were all silenced by a sharp gaze from the teacher. "Alright, now who can tell me the basics of the psychoanalytic theory. Yes, Matilda?"  

"Well, it was first created by...." 

Their voices faded into the background as Bill tried to regain a sense of his surroundings.

Did he fall asleep again? When did that happen? He doesn't remember passing out. He rubbed his face and froze when he caught sight of something on the page of his open notebook.

It was a set of eyes scribbled messily atop his notes. He glanced at his hand and found he was still cradling the pen in his fingers. It was just a drawing, he knew that, but it still made him irrationally perturbed and the more he stared at it, and it stared back, Bill grew more uneasy.

"Hey!" A hushed voice said. Fear gripped Bill as he slowly looked to the left.

It was Mike. Only Mike.

"You okay?" His friend asked, his eyes flickering down. "Oh no... Bill, your pants."

It was then Bill finally felt the wetness in his nether regions and when he shifted it created a squelching noise. Instead of burning embarrassment, Bill paled and shakily stood up. Distantly, he heard the teacher ask what he was doing as he exited the classroom. When he stepped out into the hallway he booked it the bathroom, just in time to rush into one of the stalls, fall to his knees and puke all his guts out. He was shaking and his body was covered heavily of sweat. Too weak to get to his feet and distance himself from the stench of his own bile, Bill simply sat there, exhausted beyond words. Even when he heard the sound of the bathroom door open followed by footsteps.

"Bill!" Mike's voice called. "Bill are you in here?" 

He took a moment to catch his breath before replying. "I'm fine. I'm just tired." 

Mike laughed. "You sound like death."

Inhaling deeply, Bill got to his feet, flushed the toilet and exited the stall.

"Are you alright?" Mike asked, any trace of humor gone from his tone. 

Bill nodded and stumbled to the sink. He turned it on, cupped his hands under the water and splashed his face. Breathing heavily, he stared at his reflection in the mirror. His reflection stared back.

He noticed it. On the left side of his cheek; a dark spot, maybe of dirt or some kind. He blinked and leaned in to get a closer look, fingers raised to rub it off but it was gone. 

"What did you say?"

Bill snapped his head towards Mike, almost forgetting the boy was there. "What?"

"You said something. Silver away, or something?"

"Hi-Yo, Silver. Away." Bill muttered, the words coming naturally to him.

Mike scrunched his face up. "Isn't your bike named Silver?"

"Yeah, yeah it is."

"That's a pretty cool catchphrase. Where'd you get it from?"

"I don't know." Bill breathed, rubbing the back of his head.

"Well anyways, here. Wear this." Mike handed him a pair of sports shorts. Bill accepted it silently and went into a stall to change. "You fell asleep again." Mike said over the door.

"I was just tired." Bill replied cautiously.

"How late were you awake last night?" 

Bill grimaced while he slipped on the shorts and folded his soiled pants. "Not late."

He heard Mike snort. "Right. You've been taking the pills Eddie gave you? The ones that help you sleep?" He stepped back when the stall door opened and Bill walked out.

"I don't need them."

"You don't need them?" Mike echoed, raising a brow. "Bill, look at yourself. You look like you haven't slept in weeks."

Bill wanted to denounce his claims but one look at the mirror dashed that plan away. He  _did_ look terrible. A throbbing ache erupted in the back of his head, making Bill squeeze his eyes shut. "They make me fall asleep." He managed to grind out.

"That's the point."

_Wrong, wrong._

"Sleep is stupid." Bill mumbled, trying to blink away the dizziness but he felt faint and the world was spinning around him. "I don't need sleep. He needs me awake-" He swayed in place, tilting too much.

"Bill! Bill!" Mike caught him before he could fall. "Hold on, now. Steady, steady."

The ache in his head ceased. Clarity returned to Bill. "I'm sorry, Mike. I don't know... I don't know what happened."

"You're sleep deprived, you insomniac." His friend snarked and sighed wearily. "I'm going to tell Eddie that you stopped taking the pills."

"No, please don't do that. I'm fine. I'll sleep more, I promise." 

Mike's lips thinned into a straight line. "I don't know, Bill. I'm worried. This has happened before."

"It has?" Bill frowned, searching his memories but he could not find the event Mike was talking about.

Mike paused, his face emotionless. Then, he blinked and frowned at Bill. "Is there something you need to tell me."

"No?..." Bill replied warily.

"Is it about the nightmare you had?" Mike said, gesturing at Bill's soiled pants. "Are they not letting you sleep?"

_Nightmare? What nightmare?_

Bill's brows knitted together. "I haven't had a nightmare since-" He stopped talking. For some reason, it became a silent rule to never speak of that summer and It. Most of his friends wanted to forget so Bill let that summer fade from their memories. He tells himself it's an act of kindness but something still felt off.  _Wrong_.

"Since It." Mike finished grimly.

"You remember?" Bill didn't mean to sound surprised but it was, well, surprising. Mike never talked about that summer so Bill thought he too had simply forgotten.

"Parts of it." Mike trained his eyes on the floor. "Most of it is hazy."

"We were young back then." Bill tried to explain.

"We were, weren't we." His friend frowned. "Yet, not  _that_  young... Bill, did you dream about It back in class? Is that what's causing your insomnia?"

Bill shook his head, "No. I don't remember dreaming about anything at all. I think i'm just stressed out."

"About what?"

"School." Bill bit his lips, thoughts of Robert entering his mind. "I got accepted into a writing university. A real nice one."

"That's good to hear." Mike smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "I'm happy for you."

Bill tried to smile back but he couldn't muster the will. "Thanks, Mike. There's just one thing... It's all the way in London."

"That's out of the country. That's far." Mike rubbed his chin, "But I don't see what the problem is. You're young, you can move away. There's nothing holding you back. You don't have anything tying you to Derry."

"Well you see, the thing is... I think I do." Bill paused, waiting for Mike to say something but his friend sat there expectantly, waiting for  _Bill_ to continue. Bill sat on one of the sinks and looked down, playing with his fingers. "Have you ever met someone, someone really special, that you can't imagine living your life without? I mean, someone really,  _really_ special."

"Bill," Mike said slowly, "Are you in love?"

"What?" Bill sputtered, his eyes wide as saucers. "No! No, we're just friends."

"Who is it?"

"You won't know them." Bill rubbed the back of his neck. "They're not the... social type."

"Can you give me a name, at least?"

"Trust me, Mike, you won't know this person."

Mike leaned against on of the stalls, "Alright. So we have mystery person you don't want to leave behind because you love- 'like' them, whoever they are-" Bill became flustered but Mike raised a hand at him. "And they can't go with you to London, I'm guessing?" Mike looked at Bill for confirmation. Bill nodded. "So the question is, do you still want to go to London?"

"No." Bill said before he could think it. 

Mike clapped his hands together. "Then it's simple then. If you like them, and they like you, then I don't see what the problem is. You two obviously want to stay together, or at least you want to, Bill."

"They don't like me that way..." Bill said, and why did his heart hurt so when he said that? Robert doesn't like him... not like that... but... did that mean...

Bill did?

Did he like Robert? More than a friend?

"Did they tell you that?" Mike asked, pulling Bill from his troubling thoughts.

"No.."

"Then how do you know that's true?"

Bill opened his mouth but paused. How did he know? No. No, he knows Robert doesn't feel that way. But how? What was telling him that?

"Are you scared, Bill? To ask this person?" 

Was that it? Was Bill scared?... Yes. He was fucking terrified because what if.. What if Robert didn't feel the same way, too? God, that would change everything.

 _Fuck these feelings,_ Bill cursed in his mind. He wished he never felt them. Why did they have to torment him so? Why can't things stay the same? All he wants is for them to be together, like they have been. Life was perfect back then and now these feelings were ruining everything. 

"It must be scary, huh." Mike smiled softly. "You think fighting a clown that eats children should've be scarier."

Bill chuckled in agreement. That's one thing he admired about Mike. His friend was always so patient and understanding. Mike was the rock in their little group of losers, always there for them when they needed help. He was constant, an absolute in their uncertain lives.

"I'm afraid things will change between us." Bill confessed quietly.

"Things are always changing. Nothing ever stays the same, no matter how much we want them to."

Bill smiled hollowly as he heard Mike echo what Bill himself said to Robert. Maybe he should take his own advice sometime.

"Bill? Can I tell you something?"

"Yeah Mike, go ahead."

Mike pressed his lips together in a thin line. "You know how I play football? Well, I found out I can get a scholarship for that. One that'll get me into a good school."

"That's great." Bill said, genuinely happy for him. 

A flicker of a smile crossed Mike's lips. "Thing is, I don't  _want_ to do football anymore. It's fun and all but I don't see it as something I'd want to do for my future."

Bill shrugged, "Okay, that's fine. You don't have to be a footballer to get into uni. You're the smartest kid in school. I'm pretty sure you can get into a good school with your grades alone."

Mike sighed. "I wish it were that simple. Even if I get scholarships, it won't be enough and I don't want to be in debt for the rest of my life. You know my family ain't the richest people in the world, heck not even in Derry. And I don't want to burden my Granddad with more than what he struggles with now."

"I'm sorry," Bill said. "What are you going to do?"

"It's alright. I already accepted the fact that with the provisions given to me, I wouldn't be able to go cross-state or nothing. It's just the way it is, sometimes. That's life." Mike licked his lips, rubbing his knuckles. "I don't know. Maybe I'll stick around Derry. Go to the community college down here. One thing's for sure, i'm going to get my degree. None of the people in my family has ever gotten one and I feel like I would do my parents proud if I did."

Bill smiled sadly, "That's great, Mike. That's truly great. Your parents would've been proud." 

"Thanks, Bill." Mike slapped his knuckles into his palm. "Anyways, what I'm trying to say is, things aren't going to stay the same, and things aren't going to go the way you hoped them to be. The most important thing is, you know what you want and you go for it. I don't want you looking back in the past and regretting your choices; what you did and what you didn't do. If you really want to stay in Derry and be with this person, then I say go for it. Life's too short not to take risks."

"You're right, Mike." Bill agreed, although inside his stomach was doing flips at the thought of talking to Robert about it. Maybe he shouldn't. Maybe he should run away to London. It would be safer that way.

But he wouldn't be with Robert.

The school bell rang, startling the boys. 

"Shit," Mike cursed. "Mr. Padick's going to think we ditched."

"He'll throw our stuff out the window." Bill grinned. 

Mike shook his head. "Don't tempt him... Hey wait. I gotta know, who is she? Please man, I gotta know which girl snatched up my best friend. Oh god, please don't tell me it's Gretta Keene because if it is, forget everything I just said. You  _do not_ want to be with her. As your friend, it is my duty to tell you that that is a big mistake."

"It's not Gretta Keene." Bill laughed, shaking his head. "I think she still holds a grudge on me since that Halloween..."

"Then who is it?"

"It's not a girl from school." Bill licked his lips and took a deep breath to calm his jittery nerves. "I-It's not really... a girl, at all..." He looked at Mike uncertainly, waiting wearily for his response. Bill understood Derry's stance on... anything they consider unnatural. He also understand he was taking a big risk opening up to Mike. They were best friends, or so Bill hoped. Right now, their friendship was going to be put to the test. 

Mike looked confused at first and then slowly, like the sun rising, realization dawned on his face. "Oh.  _Oh_." Mike nodded his head and shrugged. "I see. So, it's a boy thing.  _Only_ a boy thing."

"No." Bill said. "I still like girls... What does that make me?"

"Yourself." Mike replied firmly, clasping Bill's shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Thanks for telling me, Bill. It means a lot. I hope you know you're our friend and no matter what, we'll always have your back. In the sewers against a clown or life and its ugly problems, we will always be there for you."

Bill felt his eyes water but he could give less of a damn about that right now. "Thank you."

"Anytime. Now c'mon, let's go before Mr. Padick really  _does_ throw our stuff out the window!"

 

 

He waited for the clock to strike twelve to make his sweet getaway. Bill was already dressed underneath the covers and it took him no time to slip on his shoes, grab his things and head to the window. He propped it open and stuck one leg out.

"Billy." A hushed voice called his name from inside the room, almost giving him a heart attack. He jumped, smacking the back of his head on the rail. 

"Ow, fuck!" He cursed quietly, rubbing his boo-boo as he climbed back inside. He flicked on the lamp, revealing the mysterious intruder to be none other than Robert.

"Are you alright?" He grinned slyly, raising a brow. Bill was too surprised by the boy's sudden presence to feel embarrassed.

"Robert! I was just about to head over." He frowned, realizing at last the fact the boy was here, in his room. "What are you doing here?"

"Do I need a reason to see you?"

"No." Bill answered, rubbing his cheek inconspicuously to hide the blush he knew was there.

Robert's brow quirked. "Good, because I don't." A smile spread on his face. "I have something for you. I couldn't wait to show you so..." He took Bill's hand and led him to the desk. It was then Bill noticed it; a lone typewriter. 

"That's an Olivetti." Bill stated, sitting himself down. He ran his fingers feather light along the keyboards, giving some a few experimental taps.

Robert sat on the edge of the desk. "I know you've been meaning to get a new one. I found it a long time ago and I thought you'd like it... Do you? Like it?"

Bill beamed up at him. "I love it. Thank you, Robert." His attention fell back on the machine, examining it with appreciation. He was planning on getting a new one, actually, since his old one was falling apart on him, heck there were missing keypads on the old one. This typewriter was in fine condition and Bill's fingers were already itching to try it out.

"I'm glad you do." He tilted is head, gazing at Bill. "It's a little something to remember me by when you're over the pond, writing your first best-selling novel; I had to make sure you'd be thinking of me when you do."

"I'm always thinking of you." Bill muttered distractedly. He froze after realizing what he just said. Shit, he didn't mean for that to slip out. "I-I mean, not in a weird way o-or anything. You're just always on my mind- sometimes." 

"Always... Sometimes..." Robert scooted back so he can rest against the window pane. "I'd rather it be most of the times." He grinned playfully, letting Bill know he was just messing with him again.

Bill would have laughed and shook his head like usual, but tonight, something else was troubling his mind. "Robert," He said quietly, rubbing his thumbs against the typewriter nervously. "Do you... think I should go to London?"

They locked eyes and Bill tried to decipher what Robert could be thinking but the boy was always so good at keeping his face completely neutral. Richie would've considered it the best fucking poker face in the world and Bill would have agreed.

"It's not my decision to make." He answered finally, examining his fingernails. 

"I know, I-I know it's not but your opinion matters to me, a lot." More than he knows.

Robert frowned and cocked his head slightly, scrutinizing Bill. "You don't want to go anymore?"

"I do but now... I'm not so sure anymore. I'm not so sure about anything, really." He adverted his eyes under Robert's penetrating stare. Sometimes, it felt like with just one look, Robert can expose Bill like a coroner exposing a corpse; knowing them personally from the inside and out. "Th-that's why i'm asking for your opinion." Bill let out a shaky breath and locked eyes with Robert. "I know whatever your judgement is, it'll be what you think is best for me. I trust you."  

It was only for a mere fraction of a second, but  _something_ flickered in those blue eyes, too fast for Bill to decipher what. 

"That's the problem." Robert said grimly, his eyes becoming hard as stone. "You shouldn't."

He swiftly got off the table and stormed a few feet away. Bill felt his heart leap into his throat at the thought the boy would pull one of his disappearing acts again. He jumped out of his seat and trailed behind him. "Robert, wait! I don't understand. Why in the world should I not trust  _you_?"

"How are you _so_ sure I have your best interest in mind?" Robert snapped, spinning on his heels to confront Bill. From where he stood, his friend was practically towering over him.

"I don't. I mean, I do but I don't. Is-Isn't that what trust is for?"

" _Trust_ ," Robert sneered, a cold gleam in his eye that caught Bill by surprise. He's never seen this side of Robert; never seen him so angry. He advanced on Bill, forcing Bill to back away. "Trust is built on lies and deceit. It tricks you into believing something is absolute when it isn't." Bill kept backing up until he bumped into the table. There was nowhere else to retreat to. Robert was already upon him, and Bill had to lean back with only his upper body. "The people you trust the most will only betray you." He whispered darkly. "And they will leave you starved and hungry for something that was never mine in the first place." He stalked away, releasing Bill from his suffocating presence.

Bill breathed in and out deeply, trying to calm down his racing heart. His eyes were glued on Robert's back, his shoulders tense and his hands curled into tight fists.

 _Mine?_  

"Robert," Bill said hesitantly, unable to leave the support the table provided. "Did someone hurt you?"

No reply. No response whatsoever to let Bill know he had even heard him but Bill knew he had.

"Robert... did someone betray you?"

Again, silence.

Bill sensed a heaviness weigh down on the room, permeated with a strange feeling of melancholy. The weird thing is, it didn't feel like this emotion was coming from Bill. It almost felt like something was projecting it onto him and the source of where it was coming from... Robert had his face turned to the side when Bill approached and stood in front of him. Bill took his hand, held it firmly and waited.

Silently, Robert looked at their joined hands. "We were all each other had... until I wasn't the only one anymore." He said in a quiet voice with a distant faraway look in his eyes. "I was forgotten. Like I was nothing, like I  _meant_ nothing... nothing at all."

Bill's heart lurched and he held his hand tighter. "I'm sorry."

Robert chuckled dryly, slipping his hand from Bill's to run his fingers through his hair.

In response, Bill frowned in confusion. "What's so funny?"

The smile on Robert's face dropped. "Nothing is." He said before seating himself at the foot of Bill's bed. Hesitant, Bill sat next to him. He automatically reached to hold his hand but stopped at the last minute, suddenly hyper-aware of how  _intimate_ that gesture may insinuate. So instead he rests his hands on his lap, no matter how much he craved to feel the comfort from their hand-holding.

"Who was this person?" Bill asked, unable to suppress his curiosity. This was the first time he has ever heard Robert speak of anyone else. Bill had assumed he was the first but that was proven wrong and, well, he didn't know how to feel about that. And the thought that this person, whomever they may be, held this kind of affect on Robert  _still_... It left Bill feeling oddly uncertain of his position in Robert's life and, dare he say it, a bit jealous... too? Robert remained silent, causing Bill's eyes to widen in fear that he had over-stepped some kind of invisible boundary. Maybe asking that was too personal. Even though they were best friends, there were still a lot Bill knew Robert kept hidden. It wasn't anything against Bill; he just understood Robert was a private person in nature. "Sorry. Y-you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I understand."

Robert sucked in his cheeks, emphasizing his already pronounced cheekbones. "It's not that." He said. "It just doesn't matter anymore. It was a long time ago."

"That doesn't make it anymore right." Bill said, his voice raising a little bit.

"Billy," Robert chuckled, his eyes lit in genuine amusement. "Are you getting mad?"

Bill flushed, "N-no. Yes? Maybe- I-I'm getting mad for you!"

"That's cute."

"It's not cute." On impulse, Bill grabbed Robert's hand and looked him in the eyes. "Robert, I would _never_ do that to you. I would never forget you like that and I will never make you feel like you're not important. You mean so much to me." Bill had to pause when his voice began to waver. He cleared his throat, ignoring the way his eyes burned and said, "I would never leave you."

Robert didn't reply, simply reached out and touched Bill's cheek gingerly. "But you are."

Bill felt like someone had shot him. He was, wasn't he. London...

The conversation he had with Mike back in the bathroom popped into his head.

_So the question is, do you still want to go to London?_

No.

_"Then it's simple then. If you like them, and they like you, then I don't see what the problem is."_

Robert doesn't like him that way.

_"Did they tell you that?"_

No.

_"Then how do you know that's true?"_

He doesn't know.

Bill is afraid to know.

Because what happens if it is true?

_"I'm afraid things will change between us."_

_"Things are always changing. Nothing ever stays the same, no matter how much we want them to."_

But what happens if... it isn't true.

_"The most important thing is, you know what you want and you go for it. I don't want you looking back in the past and regretting your choices; what you did and what you didn't do. If you really want to stay in Derry and be with this person, then I say go for it. Life's too short not to take risks."_

"Robert." Bill bit his lips, feeling sick to his stomach. He wanted to say it, he wanted to say it so goddamn bad but he couldn't. "...You never answered my question."

"What question?"

"If you think I should go to London."

Robert's face dropped. "I told you already. My opinion is flawed. You shouldn't trust what I have to say."

Bill felt a flicker of annoyance. Why was Robert being so difficult. "It's a simple yes or no."

"No, it's not so simple." Robert snapped, standing up and moving away to put space between them.

Bill got up too. "Why are you avoiding the question?"

"Fine!" Robert said abruptly. "You want to know so bad then fine. I  _don't_ want you to leave. I want you to stay here with me but I can't say that because it is selfish of me to want that and I've always been so selfish. I may be trapped here but I don't get the right to trap you too."

"You're not trapping me. I  _want_ to stay here with you."

Robert shook his head. "No. You shouldn't. You should leave. You have your whole life ahead of you out there." He bowed his head, casting shadows over his eyes. "It's not here. It's not in Derry."

Bill felt something inside him break. How could Robert say that? Didn't he know how important he was to Bill? Didn't he know that whatever Bill felt for him was stronger than anything?

Didn't he know that Bill wanted to be with him, as friends and... something more.

_Life's too short not to take risks._

Bill swallowed down his fear and approached Robert. He felt like his whole body was shaking when he reached up and cupped Robert's cheek. "You say my whole life is out there... but my life is here.  _You_ are my life." Bill dared not look away, even when those penetrating eyes made him want to run. "I want to stay with you." Bill felt like he was going to die or worse but Mike was right; he didn't want to regret never letting Robert know his true feelings. He might die but at least he won't regret it and Robert was worth dying for. "I want to  _be_ with you."

There. He said it. He let it go out in the open, no turning back.

Now all he had to do was wait for Robert's response and that was the single most terrifying thing to do because his words can either send Bill to heaven or break him into a million tiny pieces. 

At this moment, Robert was god to Bill; his words judgement day.

"Be with me?" Robert whispered, and he looked so lost, like Bill's words were an enigma to him.

"Yes." Bill breathed, the anxiety he felt before ebbing away to reveal a growing confidence.

It was when something shifted in those eyes that Bill knew Robert understood what he meant.

He looked at Bill with a pained, longing, expression. "You want to be with me?" He repeated again like he couldn't believe it himself.

Bill didn't answer. At that moment, there was nothing in the world he can say to tell Robert how much Bill felt for him.

So he decided to show it instead.

Bill felt no fear when he held Robert's face and raised to the tips of his toes, bringing their faces closer. He caught a glimpse of those soft looking pink lips- lips that made his chest all warm and fuzzy because he remembers all the times he wanted to kiss them whenever Robert would give him  _that_ playful smirk.

Bill's eyes fluttered closed, his lips parting-

"Don't." 

Bill wondered how could one word hurt so much. Maybe it was because Robert said it. Or maybe because Bill was a fucking idiot.

He snapped his eyes open to see  _fear_ reflected in Robert's eyes. 

Robert hated being afraid, Bill knew this much, and if he knew that, then he knows what the boy will do next.

"Robert-" Bill held his face tighter, as if to anchor the boy, but gasped when his hands seemed to  _phase_ through his skin. Faster than the eye can perceive, Robert was gone, an empty void present where he used to be.

Bill stood there numbly.

Then, he stumbled back and plopped onto the floor, his back hitting the end of his bed.

 _Don't._ Robert's voice echoed in his head.

It was embarrassing to say that Bill cried his fucking heart out because fuck, it hurts. But then he happened to catch a glimpse of the typewriter still sitting on his desk and the pain he felt was replaced by a quiet determination. 

Robert was afraid and he knew how his friend got when that happens. He runs away but not this time. Bill was going to run after him and they were going to talk about...  _this_.

Bill wasn't going to die without trying to make things right.

Sure, things are changing, hell things have changed between them but nothing stays the same forever. It's what you do after things change that counts.

And Bill wasn't going to give up on Robert.

Not now or ever.


	5. Apology Update & Drawing Gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Just an apology for taking so long to update :P School is stressing right now and I feel kinda bad that I haven't worked on this fic in a while. So I decided to draw Robert as a thank you for your patience :D 
> 
> More chapters to come later!

              


	6. Chapter 6

He was walking in an endless white void, the sound of his breathing heavy in his ears. A glint sparkled in the air, catching his attention. Floating like an object in zero gravity was a shard of paper thin glass that appeared to recede into nothingness then a moment later, reappear. There were, as far as he could see, more than a couple dozen of them and when he looked closely, he realized they were all, in one way or another, connected by strands of luminescent strings.

Curiosity made him reach out and touch one of the shards.

It pulsed brightly upon contact and the string connected to it lit up and zoomed to the other shard and the same happened with that and again and again in an endless domino effect. It was fascinating to watch and it reminded him of science class, as odd as it sounds. To him, the light traveling to the connected shards were like neurons transmitting information.

"Billy!" A child's voice cried out, making him jolt. He snapped his head towards the glass he just touched and saw... Georgie. The kid was waving at him. "Billy, look!" With a child-like wonder and excitement, Georgie spread out his tiny arms towards the Grand Canyon. His little brother giggled in pure delight.

Then, the scene repeated.

No, not a scene. A memory. He remembers this. They went to Arizona during one of their yearly Denbrough family trips. This one was his favorite. They got to eat chocolate rocks and play with jumping beans and best of all, see the Grand Canyon. It was such a good day, one of the best days of his life - second to kissing a certain red-head back in grade school, though.

He was so enraptured watching the memory that he almost didn't notice the sound of faint whispering. He looked around and confirmed it didn't come from any of the glass shards. Reluctantly, he left the memory of Georgie and followed the whispers in the direction where he assumed was its origin.

The further he walked, the empty white void became not so empty anymore. Thin red veins hovered in mid-air, spreading at a slow pace. They were long and got thicker and denser until he could only see the whiteness through the cracks of the monstrous web. Even the shards of glass were wrapped in red veins that pinned it in place. He went up to a vein-trapped shard and touched it, wondering what it would show. The second his fingers tapped the glass, the veins retreated quickly.

No images showed up. Instead, a melancholic bodiless voice began speaking softly:

 

_See the TURTLE of enormous girth_

_On his shell he holds the earth_

_His thought is slow but always kind; he holds **them** all within his mind_

_On his back all vows are made; he sees the truth but mayn't aid_

_He loves the land and loves the sea, But he doesn't love a child like **me**_

 

Towards the end the speaker's tone of voice turned into a vengeful bitter growl so powerful and filled with such a disturbing anger that he could almost feel the burn of the speaker's hurt and rage.

The veins violently yanked the shard away from him, wrapping it back up in a possessive manner.

Was that a memory? He thought. Like the previous one with Georgie? But it couldn't be. He had no recollection of ever hearing this. Maybe... maybe it had something to do with these red veins.

He left the odd shard and continued deeper into the organic fray. He touched another glass shard but this time the veins didn't retreat. It curled at the edges yet resisted freeing the thing entirely. He could only catch sight of a shape of a body and a noise before it was cut off. Frowning, he tried again and again yet each time yielded the same results, adding to his growing frustration. It seemed whatever memory the shard contained, these red veins didn't want him to see... But what could they be trying to hide?

Loud static cut through the air, like a TV being turned on, followed by the sound of someone laughing.

"That sounds wonderful! I'd sure like to try that for next time."

There it was. Another shard but this one- this one the veins could not touch and if they even got close to the thing they curled up as if having been burned.

Two men were displayed in the screen, sitting comfortably across one another in what looked to be one of those late night talk shows. One of the men looked uncannily familiar but he couldn't place where he had seen him before.

Who he assumed was the host clapped his hands. "Well it was great having you on the show but it appears our time is almost up. Any last words you want to say to our faithful listeners?"

"Oh no, thank you for having me. It was good talking to you again, old friend." The guest speaker shifted in his seat to face the camera which zoomed in on his face. "Yes, I have something to say so you better listen carefully. Yes even you. Listen carefully and try to help him out. OP FNPUJPOR EPOU USVTU BOZPOF HP UP TMFFQ FTDBQF."

The host laughed heartily. "Sorry pal, what was that?"

"Oh you know what it means. Don't you remember? We used to do this a lot when we were kids. Here I'll repeat it:

 

 

OP FNPUJPO̶R̸ ̴E̸P̵Ỏ̸̧U̵̗̾ ̵̱̩́U̶̖͇̓S̶̹̉͝V̴̯̈T̶̩͌̆U̴̩̥̅̐ ̶̞̮̘̣̿̓͗B̸̮͆͌̓O̷̦͖̓͛̿͜͝Z̸̼̱̠̞̆̇͠P̴͍͖̜̯̄͌̔̓O̷̺͚̹̗͒F̷̠̜̻͑̑ ̴̢͇̺͖̘͋̾͆͝Ḧ̸͙́̉̅P̵̫͓͛ ̶̦̲̐Ǘ̵̗͌̽P̴̪͇̰͔͇̊̋ ̴̨̡͚̤̾͗͘T̷̥̣͓̝̱͒͒M̵̢̧̪̤̹̱͎̲̣͎͙̐̒̕Ḟ̵̦̮̙̲͈̤̫̘̘̠̬̱͌̈̃͂̑̊̈͌̕͜͠F̴̢͚͖̻͖̩̟̘̺̲͖̐̾̅ͅQ̶̧̮̬̿̈̽̒̂̅͘͜͝F̶̧̢̢̢̛̜͍̟̬̻̩̩̼͖̯͇͎̼͉̤͓͖̘̭̩̭̘̭̬̥̥̯̬̮̝̣̭̱̣̞͍̼͕̱̤̹̟̩̮̘̤̯͚̪͓͍̥̺̫͔͇́̔̌̊̓͂͋͋̊̎͑̃͊̓͒͒̈́̿͛͌̎̅̃̋̊̂̽́̿̅͋̑̒̓͗̑͋̌̅̅̀̂̓̂̓͛͘͘̕̕̚͜͝͝͝͝͝͝T̴̢̡̧̡̥̝͇̱̜̠͉̩̖͍͖͉̤̼̬̬̳̥̟̯̣̹̗͖͖̺̳̼͔̦̼͍͉̗͕͇̤͉͓̞̫̠̰̞̃̒̀͋͐̀̓̊̅͒̋͗͘͠͝ͅD̵̨̧̨̢̨̫̗͇̼̘̻͎͎̪̲͇̻̣̹͓̖͕̻͙̙̖̪̘͇̺͈͍̬̥̙͙̘̻͇͕̟̮͈͙̤̹̳̫̟̣̦̺̺̓͋͌͋̉̃̋̏̑̌͋̾̆̄̄̍͋͋̏̈́̄͑̓̏̉̌̓̒̎̔̔͆͒̕͘̕̕͜͜͜͠ͅB̷̧̡̢̧̛̞̞̮͍̯̭͎̳̮̯̼̲̦͓̖̩̰̮͈̠̼̳̻͈̖͙͇͇̺̜̔̒͛̋̔͋̈́̈́̊̒̈́̿̽̈́̐̈̈́̄̔̓͌͒̒̍̌̐͆̋͆̌̎͑͐̿͐͆̅̈̀̈́̇̂͗̓̈́́͐̋͆̾̋̿̚͘̕͘̚͜͜͝͠͠͝͝ͅQ̷̨̨̛̗̲͈͕̹̲͇̺̥̖̹͇̩͚̺̙̝̼̳͖̪̦̙͚͚̩̱͕͈̺̫͚̝̞͚͈͇̇̽̋̈́̀̊̂͊̈́̐͂̾̒͗̅͌̃̐̆̚̚͘͘͘͜͜͝͝͝F̸̧̧̧̧̢̡̧̛̛̖̺̤̮̺͕̱̪̻̹̗̲̜̝̥̟̬̟͍̫̩̣̬̖̪̮̳̘̲̥̗̻̼͉͓̪̳̻̘̜̮̝̫͕̹̳̏̾̃̌͋̈́͗̅͂̉͑̏̅̆̇̑͐̂̀̄̇͊͐̈͋̉͛́̅̄͋͋ͅͅ

 

 

 

The screen dissolved into a mess of static as green vines curled around the edges of the shard. The screen cleared up a second later. The two men were gone, replaced by an image of a body laying on a mortuary table. He peered closer, trying to see who it was.

His blood ran cold.

It couldn't be... but it was. It was himself.

What kind of memory is this? What was he doing there? Why is he wearing a hospital gown and why... why wasn't he breathing? He could see, no matter how much he wanted to deny it, that his chest wasn't moving up and down.

Before he could have time to process all of this a shirtless man with long blonde hair tied up in a loose pony-tail approached his body. If he was concerned then, he was alarmed now.

He knows that man. He remembers him. That psychopath who pierced him on a hook and almost grind him up like meat. Oh god, what the hell was that monster doing with his body?

As if hearing his unspoken question, the man looked towards the screen and gave a friendly wave. He realized with a jolt that the man was waving at him. As in, he knows someone is watching. But that was impossible. It couldn't be-

"Hello Sleepwalker," The man greeted while bringing a rolling tray to his side carrying all sorts of medical looking objects. Whistling a tune, he grabbed a long tube off the tray and brought it up to the light to examine it. He nodded as if confirming the thing valid and went to stand by the patient's head. The man tsked and looked at the camera. "Sharon would be disappointed in you. After all, didn't you promise mother you wouldn't stray off the path? You are lucky the wolf isn't hungry today or else who would bring grandma her hot loaf and a bottle of milk?" The man paused and stared at the camera for an uncomfortably long time before cracking a grin. "Paul Delarue, The Story of Grandmother. I like that version better. I wonder if you do to or if these little things change." He shrugged and placed a hand on the body's forehead. "Eh, never got around to finding these things out. Doubt I'll care anyways. Now open wide!"

As he watched the man slide the tube into his body double's mouth, he too felt something poking at the back of his throat. It was barely noticeable, not even uncomfortable. That changed very quickly as he let out a choked gasp. Something big was making its way down his throat. Panic bubbled up into his chest when he couldn't breath. Hysteric, he grabbed at the shard, hoping despite all logic that he could somehow rip the tube out. He opened his mouth as wide as it could go and tried to suck in air but he just made terrible short gasps. The edges of his vision darkened as he sank to his knees, clawing desperately at his throat.

His eyes widened in terror when he saw the red veins curl towards him and he could feel it wrapping around his body. He managed to tear one arm free and raised his hand up to grab something- anything that can be used to pull him free.

He opens his mouth into a silent scream as the veins cover his eye, his hand reaching out for nothing the last thing he sees.

 

1992̶̻̉

"Billy?"

Bill's eyes fluttered open to the sight of Robert sitting on his bed. Half his face was lit up by a sliver of morning light coming through a crack from the window shutters that made his pale face glow a yellow warmth- the blue in his eyes a clear cerulean that captivated him in heart-stopping wonder. His heart clenched when Robert smiled at him, looking ever so like an angel, and without thought Bill pulled him into his arms. He rolled over so Robert was underneath him and just- held him.

This was all Bill could ever want. Robert lying here in his arms, just the two of them. He was finding it hard to believe this wasn't heaven.**

Robert raised his hand and touched Bill's cheek gently, inhaling through his mouth as if consuming Bill's essence. It only served to attract Bill's line of sight onto his lips.

Unable to resist the magnetism between them, Bill closed his eyes and let himself be pulled in.

He felt a hand wrap around the nape of his neck; fingernails pinching into his skin.

His ears picked up the faintest sound of a computer rebooting but that was silenced when he felt Robert's soft lips brush feather light against his...

Bill opened his eyes and was at first confused; stuck in that brief moment of hypnagogia. He then felt something brushing past his ear which snapped him into awareness. He saw a blurry shape of a figure with a mop of red around their head. His eyes began to adjust in the morning light and the mystery person's face came into view.

"You know, you drool in your sleep." Beverly said with a corner-lipped smile, a twinkle in her eyes.

"Beverly," Bill breathed and before he knew it he was up out of the chair and squeezing her against his chest. "Oh, Bev!" He exclaimed, a wide smile spreading across his face. He picked her up spun her around, stringing out giggles that melted his heart. He finally set her down to get a good look at her. "Beverly Marsh is that really you or am I dreaming?"

"The one and only." She grinned and they both broke out into a fit of giggles.

"God Beverly," Bill sighed, still trying to get his head wrapped around the fact _Beverly Marsh_ was here in his room. "What are you doing here? Why didn't you tell me you were coming to Derry? And what happened to your hair?"

The red-haired teen sat herself up on the desk while Bill returned back to his seat in the chair.

"I didn't want anyone to know I was coming back to visit. I wanted it to be a surprise. And I grew it out. Do you like?" She flipped her long red curls and struck a ridiculous pose.

"Yes, I do very much." Bill laughed. "Does anyone else know you are here?"

"Nope. Just you. You're my first stop."

Bill sat back, still in shock at the sudden turn of events. "I can't believe you are here! Did you come to just visit us or..."

"No, it was also for some legal stuff with social services but I'll tell you over breakfast. Your mom invited me, I hope you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all." He reassured, standing up and stretching his arms until they popped- same going for his aching neck.

"You been burning the midnight oil, Bill?" She threw over her shoulder on the way to the door of his room.

"Yeah, I guess so." He hissed, rubbing his neck.

She gave a sympathetic smile. "That's what happens when you fall asleep on your desk. What were you even doing?"

"I was writing." He mumbled as he rubbed his tired eyes.

_A writer with insomniac. A match made in heaven._

 

__

 

"Your mom..." Beverly began as soon as they stepped out onto the front porch. "... she's nice."

"She's gotten better." He pressed a button located at the side of the garage and waited for the door to slide up. He went inside and rolled out with his bike. "We went to a family therapist. It took time but... we managed. I don't think any of us will truly get over it, though."

He blinked when Beverly took his hand and squeezed. "That's fine. I don't think anyone can get over losing a loved one. Not completely. I'm just glad you and your family are doing better."

"Thank Bev," Bill whispered, blinking back tears. "Yeah, we are. It just, sometimes I think my mom is still hoping. Searching."

"Do you still hope, too?"

Her question caught him off guard so much so he physically jarred back. He opened his mouth to ask her if she was playing a cruel joke but he searched her eyes and saw only a tender warmth.

No, Beverly could never be so mean. She doesn't remember... and he forgot that.

For a moment, he debated whether to tell her or not. Make her remember. A selfish part of him wants to do just that. Just so he won't be lonely. But he remembers their conversation on the phone all those years ago.

_"Believe me, a part of me wants to, too. But whenever I look back on that summer, it just seems like some kind of bad dream. Please... I want it to stay that way."_

And he found that he couldn't. She was so happy and he can't take that away from her. He would rather suffer in silence than make her suffer too.

"No." He said. "Georgie's... gone. I've accepted that."

She didn't say anything but her hug did wonders to alleviate the heaviness in his chest. She pulled back and smiled. "Ice cream time?"

"Yep, let's go."

She climbed onto the bike and wrapped her arms around his chest. "I can't believe this thing is still kicking."

"Hey, don't be mean." He rubbed the old worn out handles as if to soothe the bike. "Silver is still in pretty good condition. I did some customization to it, too."

Beverly rolled her eyes, "Next thing you know you're going to marry the damn thing!"

"Haven't proposed yet!" Bill quipped and propelled them forward, successful in getting out a surprised yelp from his passenger.

They road towards town, sometimes heading of course for Beverly to reminisce. In the town square, he parked his bike and headed inside to get their ice creams. After, they sat on a bench in the park, talking and laughing about the good ole days. It felt good talking to her and he was surprised by how much he missed this.

"So," He said, "What are you going to do with your dad's retirement money?"

Beverly bit the crunchy cone and shrugged. "It's officially mine, well until I set up a bank account to transfer the money into. My Aunt's going to help me with that. Then, I think I will use it to pay for college."

Bill perked up, "Oh, you know what you wanna do?"

"Guess," She grinned, bumped her shoulder into his.

"Uh... I don't know, a fashion designer?"

She raised a brow. "Detective. Homicide."

Bill's eyes blew open. "Homicide! Wow Bev- I mean _wow_. Homicide? That's... I gotta be honest with you, that's pretty crazy."

"I know," She said, "But it's what I wanna do."

"Why?"

She didn't immediately answer his question. Her soft face turned hard, a distant look in her eyes. "When my dad attacked me, I was so scared. I didn't know if I was going to make it out of there alive." She paused to breath in deeply and exhale. "But I fought back and it felt _so good_. I wasn't afraid anymore. For the first time in my life, I realized I had a strength I never knew I had in me. I don't want that to ever stop. I don't want evil to triumph over good. I want justice. I already had mine when I stood up to my dad but there is so much injustice in the world and it hurts innocent people like you and me. Nobody should have to go through what you and your family experienced. Nobody should have feel what it's like to lose their loved ones in that kind of way. I just want to help people and give them peace." Beverly wiped at her face, looking away. "Plus, I like a good mystery and I'm deadly with a slingshot."

"I know you are!" Bill laughed as she pretended to shoot him with an invisible slingshot. "Gosh that's... it's really great you're doing what you love. I'm happy for you."

She smiled at the sincerity in his words. "Thanks Bill, but enough about me. What about you? What are  _you_ going to do? Wait! Lemme guess- become a world-wide famous author with an actress for a wife who'll star in a movie based on one of your best-selling books."

Bill blinked. "Wow, that is oddly specific and no, I don't think I'll ever be  _that_ famous but I will be a  _real_ writer. Someday."

She frowned at him, "What do you mean a  _real_ writer. You are a writer. I found you asleep on your desk from writing too much. What were you writing about, anyways?"

"Nothing, really. Just a small idea I had bouncing in my head for a while. And I do write but I'm not a real, real writer." He tried to explain by using finger quotes. "It's hard to explain."

"Do you mean like a professional writer?"

"Something like that."

"Are you going to go to a school for writing then?"

"Yeah, I actually got accepted to-" Bill cut himself off. The thought of Robert crashed into the fore-front of his mind like a wrecking ball, making his heart  _ache_. 

"Bill?" A hand rested on his shoulder. "Bill what's wrong?"

He found it hard to speak yet somehow he managed to string together words. "I got accepted to this university in London." He cringed when she exploded with congratulations. When he didn't share her enthusiasm, she quieted down.

"Is there something wrong?"

Bill bit his lip, wondering how much he could open up to her. "It's complicated." He said in a strained voice, wringing his hands restlessly.

"What's wrong, Bill." She scooted closer, placing a hand on his arm. "You can tell me." 

He didn't really want to talk about it but at the same time he  _needed_ to talk about it with someone and who better than Beverly? He trusts her and to him, she is considered family. So, with a deep breath, he told her about Robert (leaving out his name, of course and  _how_ they met). He had to admit, he was nervous as to how she would react when learning he was into a boy but that fear was quickly squashed when she simply smiled.

"I would have never guessed with the way you kissed me that summer." She teased, making him blush pink.

"I s-still like girls." He proclaimed. "But not right now. Or ever." He laid back on the grass, having abandoned the bench. Puffy cotton candy clouds grazed by in a baby blue sea. A fuzzy warmth filled his chest. "I don't think I'll ever like anybody else. I can't imagine feeling the way I feel for him with someone else." 

Beverly laid on her side next to him, resting her chin on her knuckles. "Aw man, you got it bad, Bill. Real bad." 

"I don't know if I'm in love." He said, picturing Robert flashing him one of those mischievous little smirks that sent his heart beating wildly. "But he is... he's something else, Bev. Whenever I'm with him, I feel like I can be myself, my _true_ self. I feel like I can bare my entire soul to him and know everything will be fine."

"You really like him, don't you?"

Bill looked at her, her question bouncing around his mind. "I do. A lot."

"Does he feel the same way?"

"I don't know." He sighed, covering his face with his hand. "If he did, I don't think he does so anymore. Not after what happened last night."   

Beverly sat up, both her eyebrows raised in mild surprise. "Last night? What happened last night?"

Bill sat up, too. He had to fight down the nausea welling in his stomach as he was forced to recall the events of last night. "He... I... We were talking about how I was moving away for school and... I don't know. Everything got so emotional and heavy. He told me someone had left him in the past which really hurt him. He said it doesn't affect him anymore but when I looked into his eyes, I knew he wasn't telling the truth." Bill sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I didn't want him to think I would ever do that to him so I told him I wanted to stay and be with him and then..." Even thinking about it now made Bill's stomach churn with anxiety. "I tried to kiss him."

"Tried?"

Bill closed his eyes, remembering the look of painful confusion and fear in Robert's eyes. "He told me to stop and then he left without a word. I haven't seen him since." 

"Ouch." Beverly flinched in sympathy. "Do you... think he  _may_ feel the same way?" 

"I don't know what to think." He ripped out grass from their roots and let them go. "I was thinking about it all night. I couldn't get any sleep."

"Writing helps you, then."

He nodded, blinking back tears of frustration. "I hate this, Bev. I hate having this uncertainty between us. I want to talk to him and make everything right but now I don't know if he ever wants to see me again."

"Bill," She said with a small smile. "I think you're being a little dramatic. He's probably freaked out that his best friend tried to kiss him... or that his best friend was into guys in the first place."

Bill waved his hand. "He's not homophobic. He's... different. He doesn't care about that kind of stuff."

"Anyways, what I'm trying to say is that you didn't give him time to process all this. You dumped your love confession on him and then tried to kiss him all at the same time. Of course he's going to want to get away. You scared him."

"I can see that now." In retrospect, Bill should have known there was a probability Robert would react the way he did. For all his false bravado, the boy was always skittish around emotions. It was hard for Bill to explain the little things he tended to notice about his eccentric friend. For one, Robert can get weirdly insecure. It didn't happen often, but there were times when he would make sure if Bill was coming back. It was as if Robert was always worried that one day, he wouldn't. 

It didn't take a genius to connect Robert's irrational fear of abandonment to with what happened in his past. Not for the first time did Bill wonder what exactly happened between Robert and that mystery person. Well, whatever happened, it left him with a scar that Bill wanted to heal.

Longing filled Bill's chest. "I need to see him. I- I need to talk to him. I don't care if he doesn't like me back, I want to apologize anyways and make everything alright again." He pressed the palm of his hands over his eyes, a shaky sigh escaping his lips. "I don't want to lose him."

Beverly hugged him and it made Bill feel slightly better. "You're not going to lose him, Bill. It sounds like you guys are really close and a friendship like that won't break from a slight hiccup. Right now, I think the best thing to do is give each other space and time to think and when you do see each other again, talk it out. Tell him how you really feel about him."

Bill chuckled wetly, "That's terrifying."

"Maybe. But I've always known you to be brave, Bill. You can do it."

There was something in the way she said it that made Bill think that yes, he actually can do it. Anyways, it doesn't matter if Bill  _feels_ like he can or cannot confront Robert about his feelings- it was more that Robert deserved answers. Robert deserves better. And Bill had to step up and take responsibility for his actions, not hide away and give up.

Beverly squeezed and let go. "Give it time. You'll see, it will all work out in the end."

"What if it doesn't?" He whispered.

"Then it doesn't." She replied, "And you'll move to London and become a famous writer."

Bill imagined that future. It was everything he could ever want and yet... "It won't mean anything without him."

She didn't reply which was fine by him. They sat there in a calm silence which he was grateful of. It gave him a moment to himself and his thoughts. There was no denying it, not to himself.

He wants Robert by his side.

He wants to wake up every morning to his face and see his smile and hear his laughs.

He wants to go to sleep every night with him in his arms, running his fingers through his soft hair and knowing he won't fade away like a dream.

And most of all, he wants to cherish their conversations, through words or through silence, it comforts him from the creeping loneliness.

Bill closed his eyes, a soft hazy memory of lips brushing against his drifting through his mind.

_A dream, it was just a dream._

It was all he could remember.

He longed for it to become reality.

 

 

 

They spent the rest of the morning catching up until Beverly had to leave for the bank with her aunt. Bill was sad to see her go but they had made plans to get dinner at Derry's local burger joint with the rest of the gang later. It was Bill's job to invite the rest of the loser's club since she wanted to surprise them all.

After calling Mike, Eddie, and Stan ( Richie didn't pick up so he left a message instead) and confirming they were coming, Bill headed back into the solace his room provided. At first he wanted to go to Robert but he remembered what Beverly recommended and heeded her words. As much as it killed him, maybe some time apart would be for the better and when the time is right, he'll go talk to him. That is, if Robert wanted to see him at all.

Papers scattered on his desk from last night's writing frenzy caught Bill's eye. He sat down and began re-organizing them when he paused, a frown forming on his face. He was sure he left what he wrote in a neat stack.

Bill tried to recall the moment he woke up. Were the papers already messed up? He couldn't quite remember. Maybe Beverly looked through it but she wouldn't have left it a mess. Maybe his mom or his dad? Possible but not probable. They don't snoop around his room. He wasn't a bad kid, after all. Maybe Bill re-read his work to do some editing and he simply forgot to organize the papers. That sounds like something he would do and considering he passed out on his desk... 

He snatched the load of papers and tapped them on the desk till he was satisfied they were all lined up. As he set them next to the typewriter he noticed a single blank sheet still locked behind the cylinder. He slid it out, flipped it front and back and was going to put it back with all his virgin papers but stopped. He flipped it over so the back side of the page was facing him. Printed at the very bottom was a bunch of nonsense- a string of random letters. Yet that wasn't what puzzled him the most. It was the fact that the paper was flipped over, meaning after he was done typing he took out the paper, flipped it over and put it back in and then passed out? 

 _Weird,_ he thought as he crumpled it up and tossed it into the bin.

It was easy finding something to do to whittle away the hours (and distracting himself from thinking of a certain blue-eyed boy). By the time he was done doing his homework he decided to head over to the diner half an hour early. He ordered a milkshake and while he sipped on it he gazed out the window, wondering if Robert was alright. He hoped Robert was okay. He hated not knowing and he hated even more not  _doing_ anything about it.

Beverly showed up not too long after. Mike was the first one to arrive and reacted pretty much how Bill did, especially pointing out how long her hair had gotten. The two were talking animatedly among each other, Bill preferring to sit in silence and just listen, when Stan entered. The tall curly haired teen spotted Mike and Bill and went over to their booth. He threw a quick hello, froze when he noticed Beverly sitting next to Mike, and stared. Stan's silence stretched on for longer than comfortable, almost becoming a cause for concern, before the teen broke in a wide smile. 

"I'm so sorry!" He said as he hugged Beverly. "I didn't recognize you at all!" 

"Must be the hair." She joked good-naturedly.

Ten minutes after their official scheduled date time they had ordered burgers and fries while waiting for Eddie and Richie. 

"Where are those two? I swear..." Mike muttered, glancing back at the entrance of the joint.

"No wait, there they are!" Stan pointed at two teenage boys who were undeniably their resident loud-mouth and hypochondriac. Mike began to stand and wave them over but Eddie stormed towards the boy's bathroom, Richie hot on his heels, neither stopping to look around.  

"They seem to be in a hurry." Mike stated, slowly sitting back down.

Beverly looked at the boy's bathroom. "Did something happen? They don't look okay."

"They're probably fighting again." Bill suggested.

"Fighting? What are they fighting about?"

Mike chuckled, "What  _don't_ they fight about? I swear, they act like an old married couple sometimes."

"Richie probably got caught drinking." Stan guessed.

Beverly drew back in surprise. "Richie's been drinking?  _Our_ Richie? Since when?"

"Well, he's always drank here and there, us too." Mike explained. "But beginning of this year it's gotten worse. I think it's because of his mom. Eddie told me his mom threatened to kick him out into the street if he doesn't have a plan for college."

Now that was news to Bill. He didn't hear about that. "I talked to Richie a while ago. He told me he was going to community."

Stan nodded, "That's what he told me, too."

"Me too," Mike added, "But Eddie thinks he's lying."

Bill frowned, "Why would he lie about something like that?"

"I dunno," Mike sipped from his coke. "All I know is what Eddie tells me."

Stan perked up, "Hold on, I think Eddie's coming over."

And indeed, Eddie showed up, looking a little forlorn but that changed quickly when he caught sight of Beverly. She slid out of the booth and hugged him, replacing the short teen's frown with a smile. A shout came from the end of the diner and Richie came towering over, engulfing Beverly within his long lanky arms.

"Look at how tall you've gotten!" She pointed out, stepping on the tip of her toes, reaching up to touch his head.

Bill took notice of how silent Eddie got, and when they all sat back down, Eddie looked anywhere but Richie. On the other hand, if there was some issue between the two, Richie didn't show it. The kid was loud as usual, becoming the source of energy in the group. After a while, the awkward tension faded away, a nostalgic mood settling over them. Even Eddie, who was the quietest one so far, began participating in the conversation. 

They chatted over their burgers and fries like no time had passed-reminiscing past events, the good memories and the bad ones. Many a questions were directed at Beverly, the boys eager to know how she was doing. The conversation slowly drifted to mostly discussing their future; colleges, majors, and scholarships. The boys reacted the same like Bill had when she revealed she wanted to pursue a career as a detective.

"What about you, Bill? Have you decided if you want to go to London or not?" Mike asked knowingly without letting the others know about Bill's secret friend.

Richie gaped, "You're going to London?"

"No, I'm not." Bill was quick to correct. "I'm still undecided. There are things I need to work out first..."

"I hope you work those things out," Beverly said with a small smile. Bill was suddenly grateful that he decided to share his secret with her.

"What's there to work out?" Richie boasted obnoxiously, throwing a hand in the air. "Fuck Bill, if I were you I'd have been on the first plane to London like  _that_." He snapped his fingers for emphasis. "Hell, it doesn't have to be London. It could be anywhere as long as it gets me out of this stupid town." 

"You going to go to Mexico?" Mike joked. 

"Mexico, Guatemala, Spain, France, fucking Switzerland- I don't care long as I'm outta here."

"What about school?"

Richie blew air from his mouth. "What about school? School's school."

Beverly shifted in her seat. "Well are you planning on going?"

"Yeah, yeah." He waved dismissively.

"Where exactly?" Stan inquired.

Richie sent Stan an annoyed look. "Dunno yet." 

"Are you thinking of any schools in general?" Mike pushed, relentless. "You know there are deadlines to apply for transferring."

"I know that!" Richie's eyes darted to each of his friend's faces. "What is this? I feel like you guys are interrogating me or something!"

They all looked at each other silently. "We're not trying to make you feel that way." Beverly said calmly. 

"We're just concerned about your future." Mike added slowly, as if he were talking to a wild cornered animal.

Richie screwed his face up. "Why?..." He trailed off. He was met with silence. Bill watched as Richie finally looked at Eddie and his face turned ugly. "What did you say?" He seethed.

"Nothing." Eddie snapped back. There was a rising tension that was on the verge of exploding and everyone at the table could feel it coming. Mike tried to say something to calm the situation down but his voice was drowned out as Richie shot up and slammed his hands on the table.

"You can't keep your big mouth shut can you!"

Eddie sneered, "Oh,  _I_ have a big mouth?"

"Yes you do! You can't keep anything a secret!" Richie yelled, his face a hot tomato.

"Well at least I can keep  _one_ thing a secret!" Eddie yelled back which, surprisingly, shut their tall friend up like a zip-tie. Whatever Eddie meant, affected Richie instantaneously. Bill remembers, the time him and Richie were in the house on Neibolt Street, running away from the not-Eddie. They came upon those three doors and saw that girl without her legs. He remembers the fear on Richie's face. That pale, sweat kind of fear.

He sees it now, and Bill wonders what was Richie so afraid of?

Richie stares at Eddie like a deer in headlights. Then, as quick as a deer, he spins on his heels and left. Multiple calls of his name from his friends landed on deaf ears. Richie ignored them, smacking a carton of straws on his way to the door which goes spilling out in a mess on the floor. 

Through the window, they watch their friend storm outside, passing by a tall man standing out there in the dark. For a brief second, the stranger and Bill made eye contact.

It was like an electric shock ran through his body.

Familiar blue eyes widened, and before Bill had time to process what, no  _who_ he was seeing, Robert was gone.

"We'll be back," Mike reassured Beverly and got up. "Bill, come on... Bill!"

Numbly, Bill snapped back to reality and followed Mike to the door while Stan went to clean up the mess on the floor, apologizing profusely to the cook in the back. Outside, Richie was nowhere in sight. Bill was worried for his friend but his eyes strayed to the spot he was  _sure_ he saw Robert. Heart pounding, he tried to convince himself he wasn't going crazy and just seeing things but god did Bill feel like he was losing his mind!

"Shit. He's gone." Mike swore, and they slowly headed back to the entrance. 

"Mike?" Bill paused, cautious on how to continue without sounding suspicious. "Did you see that person standing out there?"

"Mh? No, I didn't see anyone."

Something beyond disappointment crashed over Bill. He blinked back tears, mentally chastising himself for being so pathetically- desperately hopeful.

It seemed that no matter if he were asleep or awake, Robert held a permanent place in his thoughts. 

Bill didn't know if that was a good or bad thing and he found that he didn't so much care.

 

 

Those blue eyes fresh in his mind gave him company for the rest of the night. Despite what happened with Richie, the Loser's Club ended their dinner on a high-note, mostly for Beverly's sake. After saying their goodbyes, Bill pedaled Beverly to Derry's only hotel, dropping her off right in front of its doors. 

"I'm sorry about what happened at dinner." He said as soon as he propped the bike.

"There's nothing to be sorry about. I had a great time." She replied, and Bill could see in her eyes she was telling the truth. "I got to see all of you again. That'll never be something to be sorry of."

Bill stared at her and felt his chest clench. Swiftly, he snatched her in his arms and hugged her, her long hair brushing against his cheek. "I'm going to miss you, Bev. I'm going to miss you a lot. I wish you didn't have to leave. You've helped me so much. You listened... Thank you."

"I'll miss you, too." She held his cheek in the palm of her hand, rubbing her thumb softly. "You know, just because we are apart doesn't mean I'll be gone. If you need somebody to talk to, no matter the time or place, I'll be there. You can always talk to me."

Her kind words touched him and despite himself, his eyes became watery. "Thank you, Bev. You don't know how much that means to me. I hope you know you can talk to me, too.

"I know." She grinned. Bill felt a twinge of jealousy of the confidence laced in her voice but that was quickly replaced with admiration- admiration for how strong and sure Beverly is. 

"I wish I was more like you." He admitted.

She gave a confused smile. "What do you mean?"

"You're always so sure of yourself. You already know what to do and who you are and I... I don't." 

"Oh Bill!" She laughed and he waited patiently for her to finish. "I wish! The truth is, half the time I don't know what I'm doing and I certainly don't know who I am. I don't think anybody does. I think what really matters is who you  _want_ to be."

His eyes flickered with emotion. "What if I don't know who I want to be? I don't know who I am and I don't know who I want to be and the worst thing is, I'm starting to think, 'what's the point?'. What does it matter? Maybe... I'm nothing after all." He looked away in shame and wiped at his cheek, wanting nothing more than to run away and hide in fear of what she was thinking and what she would say.

He flinched when she grabbed his hand and squeezed. She called his name and when he didn't look at her she did it gain until he forced himself to look her in the eyes. "Bill, don't ever think that way. You are  _not_ nothing. You are more important than you know."

"Important for what?"

She paused and stared at him blankly. Seconds passed and Bill was starting to think his question caught her off guard when she began again. 

"To us. You are important to us. So don't think you mean nothing because you mean something to me and Mike and the rest of the gang and to your parents and even to your mystery friend. I know  _he_ cares about you. We all do. And about who you want to be, it's okay if you don't know that, either. I think... the choices we make helps us  _understand_  who we want to be and it also shows us who we really are."

Bill grew quiet. He understands where she is getting at and he truly appreciated her effort to comfort him but deep down inside there lingered a strange feeling of loneliness. He wanted to tell her but he knows she won't understand. Not like Robert does.

"What if there is no choice?" He asked slowly.

"There is always a choice. Always." She replied firmly.

Bill contemplated her words and nodded. "Thank you, Bev." He hugged her one last time and turned around to climb onto the bike when he felt a tug at his wrist.

"Bill, wait." She said. "About your friend, do you know what you are going to do?"

"I don't know." He sat on the saddle of the bike, opening and closing his fists. "I know I want to talk to him- I  _will_ talk to him but I'm afraid and this small, cowardly part of me wants to run the other way... It's driving me crazy, Bev. Just back at the diner I thought I even  _saw_ him standing outside!"

She frowned and cocked her head curiously. "When was this?"

"After Richie left, I thought I saw him."

Beverly' raised her brows. "You don't mean that tall, creepy dude standing in the dark, do you?"

Bill's eyes widened, "You saw him!"

"Just a little bit. I didn't really get a good look. It was dark, after all. And who stands in the dark like that anyways?"

"He's weird," Bill explained absentmindedly, distracted by the revelation that yes, indeed he  _did_ see Robert! Now the question is, what was he doing there? Was something wrong or did something happen? Was he alright? All these questions were making Bill dizzy with worry. Did he want to talk to Bill? Then why was he standing outside watching him? Wait, of course, Robert always had an aversion to meeting his friends- or anyone basically. It made sense the strange boy wouldn't approach Bill with his friends around. 

Midst the torrent of his incessant questions, he didn't realize he was saying some of his thoughts out loud.

"Hey," She placed a hand on his shoulder to gain his attention. "Maybe he's just as miserable as you are."

Her words froze Bill. He never would have thought... that Robert simply  _misses_ Bill, too.

He stood there stunned as she smiled and kissed his cheek. "Goodnight, Bill." She entered the hotel and still he stood frozen in place.

_Maybe he's just as miserable as you are._

If Robert misses him, then did that mean the boy didn't completely hate his guts? 

Bill didn't know and there was only one way to find out...

He just had to be brave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** Heaven by Bryan Adams (this entire story is an 80s romance mood)
> 
> For anyone still reading this story, thank you so much. I got into a car accident and then school started... But I pushed through because I really want to finish and plus I love these characters haha. I'm already working on the next chapter and then I believe a few more chapters till the finale :D 
> 
> Thank you for sticking around and as always, thanks for reading!


End file.
